My Brother's Keeper
by Paperjam7
Summary: An assasin fox seeks to reconcile his past with the Abbey but fails in his efforts. The same Mossflower he tries to save crumbles into dim future. Mossflower is lost.
1. Redwall

* * *

"_And with every breath Spring may take_

_Breaking forth with wond'rous song_

_May the rains present and make_

_Our tilled fields strong_

_Eat well and be filled_

_With fruit pie and 'cumber_

_May your lives be filled with peace, good will_

_For today is the Feast of Summer!"_

_-- Abbot Kereseth, Summer of the Fifth Year_

* * *

The lawns of Redwall Abbey were teeming with lively beasts: Dibbuns playing here and there, some eating on the run, whilst elder doing so alike in their matured ways. 

Jaden sat away from most everyone under the shade of an apple tree, tending to his own slice of apple pie. The orchards flowed with sweet scents of flowers and earth. The smell was beauty to his nose – he absolutely loved that smell. He didn't even mind that his clothes got dirty, nor his footpaws muddy from the earth. Even the _mud_ at this place conveyed feelings of warmth and peace. Every speck of the land was ever mindful of the acceptance of , well, some, woodlanders. Nevertheless, it was a home to him, a home he had never been able to settle down to.

Jaden unconsciously equated this to these Abbey dwellers and beast of Mossflower, trumping through the open gates on the warm summer morn. Mossflower had removed itself of vermin hordes and rag-tag groups after many a hard seasons fighting. For the first time since – well, Jaden thought – _never_, the woodlanders of Mossflower could claim the land as _their_ unique home. Unique, in the sense of no foul-breathed vermin. So much so, in fact, that the gates remain open – sunrise to sunset.

Jaden took a large bite of his pie as a few dibbuns ran past down rows of apple trees. He chuckled to himself as they rambled on in their undeveloped speech. One tripped, and fell laughing - but quickly suddenly stopped as he noticed the _fox_. The sole fox ever allowed back into the Abbey at will. Jaden. Jaden quickly stopped laughing to himself, as if the dibbun's eye of concern and mystery over the unknown sucked the life out of his own potential among even the young ones. An Elder soon passed by Jaden with a disapproving, threatening glance, ushering the dibbuns to go about their way.

_Typical_, Jaden thought cynically. _Elders are damning the poor children. No wonder these fools here are so livid about exacting revenge on _every_ vermin._

_A fox in Redwall_. Ever since Jaden had been allowed past the aged gates he has been looked upon with a mixed gesture - a smile and a disheartening frown. A smile from those of whom he has proven himself to, through hard labor in the gardens and kitchens, toiling in the same sweat and mud as they have; and a frown from those who _know_ vermin, and have had friends and brothers and mothers and relatives killed from _vermin_. These types, Jaden concluded, think all vermin to be inherently evil.

"_From the same breath of scummish life you shall first breath is the same that you shall crawl back to the grave with."_

_Yes. _He took a bite of the pie. _Here's to you, for all the more._

He had first gotten in for pity - or lack thereof - of the Redwallers on that cold, dark night, roughly a season ago. With barely more than a drop of water and a crumb of hardtack, he was let in for victuals. The Abbot was awoken by the commotion and himself let the fox in. He wasn't immediately called because he had stayed the night up the day before talking to some old friends, as told by the Abbey dwellers. Supposedly of course. Jaden could tell of their suspicious trickery the moment he stepped into Redwaller – because, fact had it, Redwall had been under the last of many a decade of fighting. And they had won their freedom. Why else wouldn't they be zealous for their ideals? Neurotic types, Jaden had concluded.

The Abbot, though, was different. When awoken he had come himself to the wall top and had a slight, casual conversation with him. Jaden suspected something was wrong from the beginning, and this leader's manner confirmed it.

_Probably going to kill me_, he had thought. But he was going to die either way. Thanks to the woodlanders surrounding the Abbey, they had sucked what could be scavenged well for the Summer Feast. Just like now – except he was comfortable, but not entirely so, behind the Abbey walls.

Abbot Karuseth was his name, and he was friendly. But firm. That's what Jaden remembers most about him. His voice was calm, almost friendly, but carried the underlining authority that an Abbot _should _carry; but at the same time said: "Cross us _once_ vermin - even once - and you shall cease to exist." Jaden at the time then writ him off as just another ideal-ridden woodlander. But he grew to like the elder mouse.

Jaden sighed, and took another bite of his pie as he sat among the orchards. The sweet song of birds filled the air for a moment.

"Ahh… _Brother_ Jaden."

Abbot Karuseth sat down a quarter of the way around the tree trunk. He sighed heavily and drew back his breath in, also taking in the bountiful, fragrant, warm summer air.

Jaden immediately looked over from the bite he was about to take. " -What?"

Karuseth smiled. "Yes, you heard me my friend."

Jaden flushed. He had never been accepted enough to be called _Brother_. It was usually scum by the mothers; ignorant and useless by the fathers; and smelly-ish by the dibbuns. If he was lucky, he was called Jaden. But _brother_?

Karuseth looked over as he noticed Jaden's lack of reply. Jaden was obviously perplexed. The Abbot knew that. "Brother Jaden, you must realize you have visited us enough to establish a well reputation. I personally vouch for-"

Jaden laughed and remembered his pie. A slight laugh of disbelief. He took a bite of the pie. "Abbot Karuseth, you make me laugh sometimes. I know _well_ that I'm not fit to be called that. But like you know, I could care less about what they think."

Karuseth looked off down the rows of trees. "Oh yes, Jaden - I know that. I know that full well…" He sighed. "But you must realize something, my friend. Everyone will never like you completely, nor the decisions you make. That's a bare fact of life that all must come to believe no matter to what one may be born into."

Jaden muttered rather darkly. "Not with those _Redwaller_ types who-"

"-Hate vermin, and hate them because they are naturally evil, instinctively evil. Who can't bear a candle to _good_ ideal." Karuseth smiled to him warmly. "…We've discussed this many times, Jaden. Let this pass once again. But before you do so for all time and forever," The Abbot chided, obviously sarcastic. "-Which of course I know you will do, let me tell you that your name has spread throughout Mossflower now. In a good tone. - You seem to pick the right times to appear, my friend."

Jaden flicked a crumb off his nose. He slurred, uninterested: "How so?"

"The Mossflower inhabitants, of course. You visit at times when they come."

"Mmmm. Well, yes, there's no other time when there isn't this much food - but there's not really this many Redwallers here? Like that time when I first got here?"

Abbot glanced out towards the open grounds in front of the steps leading up to the infirm. A few dibbuns were sword-fighting with sticks. "Yes."

Jaden nodded and leaned his head up against the tree. After a moment he asked: "What are they saying?"

Abbot Karuseth responded rather quickly. "Some fox is hard working, laborious, instilled with something of a different spirit than your empty-brained vermin. Very peaceable and friendly when the atmosphere is correct."

Jaden got quiet for another moment. He had run into his fair share of _atmosphere_. Stern, thick, tensious atmosphere. Where he would be excluded from things when the Abbot wasn't looking, and shoved out of conversations as if he were a dibbun. But hard working... He indeed had his ulterior motives. He just never said why. Jaden quietly hoped that the Abbot wouldn't intrude into his "ethics", question his systems - if the word would be anything near to what was the truth.

"The most sought-after curiosity is: Why. Why, Jaden, this fox from the Northlands, this black-furred fox is like this; and what keeps him ticking. What drives him on."

Jaden stared at his pie intently. He checked his senses as to not be so nervous. But was he? His heart was pounding, and he tried swallowing the knot of guilt in his throat. _Oh - if only I could be_ that_ honest with the Abbot!_

The Abbot looked over to him and frowned. "Why the glum look my friend?" He adjusted his position to face him, and gestured openly with his hands. "Tell me, Brother Jaden. Something has been troubling you - I have sensed it ever since I have gotten to know your _true_ self… but I have never had the audacity to break your own sense of peace and ask you about it, in fear of provoking you to your common quietness. But it troubles me so! It troubles me that you are burdened - and I must, as an Abbot and Brother of Redwall, must ask you what troubles you. And if you do not answer Jaden… then I fear I will have failed as an Abbot of Redwall."

Jaden continued looking at his plate and pie. He shuffled the remains of it with the fork. He began mumbling and quickly picked up voice. "You are a fine Abbot, Father. You-"

"Karuseth." He smiled, the skin on his nose crinkling. "You have my permission to use my name this once, my friend."

"Abbot… Karuseth. You are more sensible than all the Abbey beasts combined. You have a heart of gold..." The mice. The faces of the dead mice, pinned to the wood side of their house, flashed through his head, the arrows sticking out of their chests. He grimaced at the thought and ceased talking altogether.

Abbot Karuseth sighed. "What is it? Tell me? Tell me, my friend, what bothers you so!" The Abbot let the question sink in for a second. "Have I not entrusted your secrets and never revealed them to anyone? Have I not? And have I not been such a friend as to let you in this Abbey, and Mossflower?"

Jaden took heart to the Abbot's kind and fatherly tone. In all their conversations he had never revealed what his job was nor what he has done. No specifics. Only, that he was a ranger and advisor to the King of the Northlands. To that the Abbot had replied that this was a _perfect_ job and so much so because he, Jaden, was discerning. Discerning, yes, but not to simply advise with wisdom. Wisdom had little to do with his position. He advised the King to which subjects or hordesmen would best be eliminated for the political causes of the King among His own. Had, is the better word, though. He had begun to seek assignments that were far reaching and kept him the longest and farthest away from the clutches of the Northern Hellsman. Check up on the deep regions of Mossflower; keep tabs with those reptilian-folk in the southerlands. The Northern Hellsman are, in their words, the bane of _Mossflower_ itself, and, as Jaden kindly suggested to the King, felt much obliged to keep the King's arm intact even while blindly underneath the Mossflower beasts. To which he somehow, for some reason, backed off when the Mossflower beasts beat them back – possibly supposedly, though, Jaden suspected. The King wasn't stupid enough to blindly rush into things and not _wait_. With the King's selective hand, the King has played his legions of hordes to taking over all of the Northlands (of course) and at the same time balanced out the favor of his men to his loyalty. Jaden has risked himself more and more as he stayed longer away from the King's throne. One of these days he may catch his presence to the woodlanders. Unlikely, but there is the possibility.

Jaden sighed bitterly and replied to the Abbot after an awkward moment of silence. Firm, and resolved: "I'm leaving tonight. At midnight. East gate."

The Abbot did not respond immediately. His gaze remained unfocused and off-handish. After the longest moment he sighed, and spoke; his tone marked defeat. "The guards will be changing shift at the fourth watch." He commented off handedly, "You know that.."

Jaden fussed with the remains of the pie for a moment, and then got up and left. The Abbot remained looking at the ground, a forlorn look on his face.

He sighed and shook his head. "Jaden… Jaden… What troubles you my friend? Why this guilt?"

Jaden paused suddenly – the Abbot _knew_! He knew that he was guilty, that he felt guilty… but how?

_The Abbot is too wise for his own good._

The least, though, he didn't know why he felt guilty – and Jaden rested with that fact. Pushing the matter out of his mind, continued on.

With Midnight approaching Jaden had packed his few belongings that he dared take into the Abbey, and made his way to the east wallgate. Despite the creature comforts of the Abbot's word he still felt paranoid. Having to watch one's own back for so many seasons grow on you. Yes, a good story to tell, Jaden had agreed with the few friends he made – but it is lonely. _Very_ lonely. Boring, at times.

The gate opened so smoothly as it had so many times before, and with one last look at the beloved Abbey, he departed.

"Helwwodvmminnnny!"

Jaden turned around, bug-eyed to see a dibbun right behind his steps. It was the badger child, spawn of the Badger Lord of Sala. His father had left him in the care of the Abbey Elders, while he chose to stay at Sala for whatever reason beyond Jaden. Jaden could care less, though. Better a big, stupid badger far away than here.

There could only be one reason why this badger babe followed Jaden. The Abbey keepers. Must've escaped their _watchful_ eyes.

_Hah. Figures!_

But the child - the badger child had taken a slight interest in the vermin Jaden over the different times he had visited. _Why is the vermin in Mossflower? Arn't all the verminys gone from Mossflower? Why daddy?_ Jaden figured that that was what he asked his father. Who wouldn't? Here he was, a vermin in Mossflower. Curiosity probably is what made the badger child follow Jaden around, to Jaden's horror - he could only imagine the horrific bloodwrath bellowing in the badger lord's eyes when he sees his son playing with Jaden. Or, better said, Jaden with his son. He had gotten a stern warning from the badger Lord the day he tried visiting the hares and such.

Jaden sighed and reopened the gate. The gate didn't close properly. "Here little 'un. Go back inside to your home."

The badger child looked up with sparkling eyes. He just looked. He didn't speak much because of his age. He was very, very young.

But the look was unnerving. Beady-eyed badger babe staring up at a _foxxyveriminy_.

Jaden frowned. He was about to pick up the babe when a scurrying mousemaid rambled over.

"Come 'ere ya little rascal! 'Tis dark 'n lonely out 'ere in these parts!"

When the mousemaid opened the gate, Jaden was gone. The badgerbabe was sitting alone on the forest floor. "Silly _Mace_ – gerrova 'ere!."

The night air was thick and cool with humidity as he trudged on through the woodlands. He stayed off the main path as he went northward in habit. He quickly verred off to the right to find his buried gear.

A bow, a quiver; daggers, darts, and herbs – simply, the weapons of an assassin. They felt rather heavy tonight, strangely so more heavy than usual. Oddly enough more heavy than the inquiries of the Abbot. But these weapons were in fact the ones that had killed, and most respectfully that family of mice he had killed. The, innocent field mice – the children. All of them, dead.

_That was then, though. That was my job. This is now._

The reply came stagnant, cynical, a voice he recognized clearly: _Now is the past put into play in the future. Besides – need I remind you you are still under the shadow of the King?_

Yes. True, father.

_Father…_ Jaden had many of these conversations with memory of his father. Guessing what he would say – if he was still alive, perchance; and had a decent head on his shoulders.

The moonlight shown through the heavy foliage of the trees, casting shadows over the various forest-wastes of the floor. A wet earthy smell wafted to his nose continually as result of the humidity lifting unearthed scents through the air from the warmth of the day. These both added to the stark, _natural_, beauty of the moonlight night, and to that deep surging feeling of loneliness that always surfaced when he didn't have to mask face. Northwards he was bound to the Northern Mossflower Camp of the Northern Hellsman. Their name should actually be _Southern_ Camp of the Northern Hellsman, because it was the most south that any vermin clan or horde dared to go. But it was close to the Northlands, and the name thus sufficed.

Jaden sighed. As much as he loved to be free to his granted assignments fed straight from the King, he hated it. He hated every moment of it. Every waking, breathing, walking, roaming moment of it. He had traveled probably farther than any vermin horde or individual has gone within the past ten years - ten years of the Mossflower Peace, where no vermin has bothered the insolent woodlanders. To this, his pride in sense of exploration and shame of his roots hung overhead like the forest canopy. Though he could move freely about for the most part, he was still _vermin_.

Jaden cleared his head by breathing in deeply. He threw his hood up over his head. He wouldn't normally do this if it was the daytime, for fear of depriving his instincts - he had a sharp peripheral as it had so often come in handy many a time, and thus trained himself keep an awareness out for it.

_My life is a _periphrial _of those woodlanders. If it wasn' for me…_

His thoughts eventually drifted back to Mossflower. He smirked. _Woodlanders. If only they would write their ideals and visions on parchment and shove it down their clammy throats. They are so quick to act on emotion and are easily persuaded by word - it's a wonder I survive here. And it's a wonder they don't wander northwards in lieu of it all for want of obliterating all of vermin-kind._

_Fancy that happening. That would be the day…_

But they won't, Jaden reminded himself. They don't want to risk the disturbance of their peace. That they had fought for. _That you have helped them fight for_, Jaden reminded himself. He had fed the Redwall Elders priceless information about the Hellsman and their positions. Battle tactics; points of interest; what they look for as weaknesses and their own as result. If it wasn't for Jaden they would still be combing the woods for vermin and wasting their time as they had done for the longest.

Jaden stopped suddenly. He noticed the large, burly oak tree - very unique and a perfect road-marker. He then remembered why it had washed everything out of his mind - he had deemed it halfway to Redwall. Halfway from the River Moss. Jaden frowned, but continued. He hadn't realized he had gone that far.

Jaden chuckled to himself. _Time flies when you go solo. _

_Ahh, yes. Too bad there aren't any defunt cohorts of mine to keep me company._

A traveling companion - that's what he needed. Someone to train. And talk to. He hadn't traveled with anyone for the past five seasons. He got so accustomed to it from the Northern Mossflower Camp that he felt deprived of some deep, inner need for sustenance of his existence. He didn't realize that he involuntarily had timed the length of conversations when rambling with the hordesmembers.

_Neh, useless anyway_.

He smirked. He felt alone enough not to be heard – but bit his tounge on whim of speaking aloud. He huffed and flipped down his hood for added sense of security. Though he didn't really need it, since Mossflower was vermin-free (except for his hide of course, at the least he hoped). Mebbe he'll run into some crazy fox-hating squirrel that had a friend killed... Again. And thus take out its nutty revenge - in an illogical way - just to sooth its troubled soul.

_Fool squirrel. So you want to be dead, too? _

The question felt bitterly cynical, so much so that he caught himself up short.

_Dare I even think that way?_

Jaden shook his head. Woodlanders. _Glad I'm not one of them_.

Something in the back of his mind answered back. _Glad your not the mice you killed?_ _How would you like it if you were slayed helplessly?_

Jaden narrowed his eyes despite the moonlighted forest. He shoved the thought out of his mind again - but to no avail.

_Go away! I killed. I did what I was trained to do. A vermin. ..._Guilt. It flooded through him. He shuddered and shrugged his shoulders.

_That was past, you old fool of a father!_

The voice replied. _You could have run off. You could have joined the Redwallers permenently that second time you visited them._

Jaden acknowledged that point. _Yes, but I can't leave. I have my priorities._

_Yes, you do. Saving your own skin?_

Jaden sighed bitterly. _The Abbot doesn't need to know. He knows enough already._

_One can never know enough. His time is soon - he even has told you that!_

Jaden shook his head to himself. _No. Let him die in peace. _

_Peace? What do you know about _peace

The mice. The arrows protruding. Jaden recalled the night in a flurry of memory.

The feel of the bowstring was tight that night. Newly waxed, and the feathers of the arrow new – exactly how he liked it. Weather, perfect; no crossbreeze, no humidity to mess with the wood or string of the bow. Perfect for killing conditions.

_Yes – you killed and you will kill again!_

Jaden stopped walking suddenly and grabbed the tufts of his hair violently. _Get out of my head!_

A moment passed as he stood there shutting his eyes tight. The thoughts slipped from his mind; he sighed in relief and bit his lip. He quickly stopped the act and looked around.

_Wouldn't that be embarrasing if -_

A twig snapped suddenly down the road. He ducked and pressed himself up against the nearest tree with little sound. A rustling of leaves under foosteps came closer and stopped. Jaden dared to venture a look around the side of the tree trunk, but was met with a voice – not his father's, thankfully. But vaguely touching upon distant chords of his memory:

"No use hidin' there. I heard ya speakin' to someone, aye."

Husky voice. Probably an otter.

"-But there ain't no one around 'ere. Whatchya doin', goin' insane?"

Jaden thought the same thing, but pushed it out of his mind. _Insane_. _Hah._ He placed himself in the creamy moonlight, streaming through the oak – casually brushing off his cloak, as if nothing had happened. He looked up at the source of the voice. A little high, though: A squirrel.

A _squirrel?_

Jaden tensed as he noticed those eyes - he recalled those sharp, emerald eyes, sharp and sparkling with an inner strength that looked to so often betray benevolence.

_That can be broken,_ a voice chimed. Jaden couldn't discern if it was his father's, or instinct.. _Merely a woodlander._

_- No. These eyes are familiar._

"_Speak_ fox - are ye mute?"

Commanding tone. Jaden frowned and said, "No _sir_. I am not." He always tried to keep his temper down in all situations as to not conclude anybeasts' doubts about him. "I was just going for a stroll in the-"

"I know that. Ye've slipped out of Redwall 'bout two hours ago. Ye've been keepin' off trail... probably to dissuade beasts like me."

_Then why did the _idiot_ decide to stop stalking and show himself?_

Jaden blinked. "Well... I can never be too trusting of my woodlander _counterparts_, you know."

"Why?"

Direct. No half-perplex, cocked headed-expression.

"Well..." A brief pause. Jaden articulated carefully, with control. "I don't like to offend any-"

"Beasts... yes. Yes. I know, " the squirrel replied casually. "I know full well. I know that you work with a horde and you come down here. And ye play little games around here - _Spy_."

Those eyes! Jaden remembered them now. "I am no spy. What do you want with me?"

The squirrel grinned rather quickly. Noticed change in tone, that squirrel – _perceptive fool._ "I want your carcass as my new coat." The squirrel extended his footpaw and flexed his toes. "Fancy foxskin boots on these things 'ere, aye? Better'n wot I gots?"

Jaden narrowed his eyes. He slipped a poison dagger from its wrist-sleeve into his hand. Poisoned to sleep, though - he didn't want to deal with disposing of the corpse. But this squirrel provoked his temper and tempted him to use something more.

_Wolfsbane_. He thought.

Then he stopped midthought. - _Did I just think _that?

The squirrel glared at Jaden. He barked impatiently. "Speak fox. Ye can't be that dumb. Ye're quick on yore paws there." He drew a dirk from its sheath and growled. "But mebbe if I cut another earhole for ye ye'll hear me good an' well!"

Jaden bent his knees and made ready to move. "I don't want to hurt you sir, but if I have to-"

"My name isn't _sir_ you moron!" He yelled. "Its Algornian you fat oaf! Don't you remember me? The one ye horde killed my brother! Now I'm gonna wet me blade with yore blood!"

The name rang many bells. Raventail, brother of Sarklo. Then the full memory of the occasion those seasons ago ran through his mind: Raventail had fought his way out violently. Jaden had the change to peg him through the heart when he was perched up in a tree as sniper, but couldn't do it. He had let the beast go.

Now he wished he had done it. Silly idealistically illogical fool of a revengeful vigilante. Anger forced its way up Jaden's throat and out his mouth.

"It wasn't me who killed your brother! That was Ragpaw! That big ugly stoat who carried that gold-hilted scimitar!"

But the squirrel didn't listen, though it was truth. _Squirrel must be – hate-all type. No true sense of justice. _

Conclusion: _Woodlander._

Raventail lunged forward to deliver a stab with surprisingly fierce speed. Jaden was ready though. He jumped to the side and dealt a harsh blow with his elbow as the squirrel whirred by. The squirrel was hit on the temple as Jaden aimed it, and crumbled promptly to the ground.

Jaden withdrew the dagger and held it bladeside down in his right paw. "You done yet?"

The squirrel pulled a horrible feint of knock-out and quickly scrambled to his footpaws and growled with a swipe. "No!"

Jaden thought he could back away in time but didn't, to his own annoyance. _Should've noticed that move…_ The blade sliced across his stomach and across his arm - not going deep, though. His cloak and vest took some of the damage, but not all of it to array blade from flesh. Jaden retorted by grabbing the squirrel's arm as it passed by, and tightly forcing his claws down on his forarm, rendered him helpless for a moment. Jaden kicked the back of his knee forcefully with a footpaw and pulled the squirrel backwards by forcing his arm to the squirrel's chest. Jaden ran his foot in front of one of the squirrel's as to provide leverage. The squirrel then fell backwards with his footpaws tucked behind his buttocks. The squirrel shrieked in pain.

Jaden held the dagger to the squirrel's neck. "Get out of my sight, _woodlander!_ It's because of your types I have to keep myself off these trails and watch my back all the time!"

The squirrel cringed and summoned courage: he spat in his face and yelled in defiance. "Beast! Vermin! I'm gonna kill you-"

The squirrel began to struggle. Jaden thrust the dagger deep into his leg and withdrew altogether promptly with his dagger in hand. He backed off a good length from the beast.

Jaden quickly felt and looked at his stomach. He was cut, but it wasn't deep. The edge of the squirrel's dirk grazed it but got his arm more. Nothing a handy poultice and dock leaf wouldn't fix, though. He looked up when the squirrel yelled and scrambled to his feet.

"Redwaaaaaallllllll!"

He was charged again by the injured squirrel. The squirrel made the mistake of charging headlong with his weight thrown forwards, and thus allowed Jaden to sidestep any deadly counter-maneuvers – to his perception in the moonlight, though. The squirrel swung prematurely and clipped his cloak.

_Too close for comfort...!_

Jaden gaved the squirrel a snap-kick to the back of his knee as he passed. The squirrel dropped to the ground promptly with a resounding _crack_! He yelled in pain.

"I'll kill you! I'm gonna kill you, you vermin!"

Jaden watched the squirrel as he struggled to get up. He collapsed instantly when he tried to use the broken knee. "Erg!"

Jaden sheathed his dagger, stealing a glance behind him. The woods thinned out along the grasslands and opened up to the path. He mentally planned this course of escape and turned back to the squirrel.

"Are you done yet?" Jaden yelled. "Are you done? Do you _want_ me to kill you! Do you want me to finish what I've started?"

The squirrel continued to struggle at uprighting himself. _Ignorant even in the face of death! _ He only made advances at a pitiful rate: upright on good knee, stumble foward, fall to ground; repeat. "I'll die before I'll let you escape!"

Jaden grunted. The moonlight shown on the squirrel's fearsome expression. His brows were ridged into his forehead deeply, and his face contorted with pain and anger, a wash of dark crevices on the wrinkly, angular face. His eyes were bright and alive with deep hatred. He stumbled forward again and fell forward. He didn't move. The poison had finally worked.

Jaden unsheathed his blade while keeping an eye on the squirrel. He approached him carefully. He stopped suddenly as the squirrel produced a groan, but a movement did not accompany the noise. Jaden breached the rest of the distance after a tense moment and wiped his dagger on the squirrel's tunic. The simple-designed blade was then sheathed.

Jaden flipped the squirrel's body over to see what exactly he had done. From what he could tell with the moonlight, it had gone deeper than he had expected. It was caked with dirt and dust, and possibly had remanents of the poison from his blade. The squirrel's face was drained of color, and beneath the dark fur of the squirrel shown a lack of normal color to the skin. A grotesque sight indeed.

Pale. Jaden cursed loudly as he realized he put a lot of poison on the blade. He forgot to place the poison on the _edge _ instead of _half _ of the blade!

_Well, fool deserves it – asking for it!_

The squirrel's eyes remained closed. He checked them. The once stark, bright brown eyes were glossy and back in his head. While some dark recess of Jaden hoped that it had been too much, the rest hoped for the opposite. If he did die - he didn't know what he would do. Burying a carcass so near Redwall when who knows who could have seen him dart out of the courtyard? No, it wasn't a matter of doubting the trustful word of the Abbot – the Abbot was wrong sometimes in his speculations of that sort, and Jaden was paranoid anyway. He checked the pulse of the squirrel and was relieved that the squirrel's heart was still beating.

He was about to leave when something tugged at him - not physically, but conscientiously. He bit his lower lip, looking at the wounded squirrel. Blood shown out of the wound in his leg; his leg was twisted from the knee; and his whole body was slumped in an unusual position. He was quickly swept with pity for the beast, and as result went to work: he cleaned and dressed the wounds of the squirrel from his own haversack. A make-shift splint was made for his knee. After finishing his work, he leaned the squirrel neatly up against the nearest tree to the road, and tended to himself. He almost forgot his own wounds. Then he stole off into the cryptic night. Jaden wasn't sure what possessed him to act that way – it almost frightened himself.

Something inside of him provoked him to begin to run. And so he ran. He ran hard, as hard as his toned tod legs could pump out. The cool night air felt refreshing to his face and awakened his sharp senses. He ran until he could run no longer, and panting heavily, his pace slackened to a jog.

_Why are you running, Jaden Rath d'Ajenhia?_

The question repeated in his mind over and over as he continued jogging through the night. He indeed knew why, but didn't respond. It was obvious to himself. The guilt of the murder of the mice drove him on. And – a sort of home sickness for what he had never had. Acceptance, and with that, a home with real people. Not this _Abbey_.

He had asked himself the question for many months, trying to push away the guilt and remorse by enveloping himself in Abbey and horde life – of a deeper issue equally troublesome, on different levels, than slaying innocent mice. Neither horde nor Abbey brought permanent relief, so he chose his assignments to go solo - hunt alone as an assassin. Before he had been a sharpshooter with his bow, and worked partly as an assassin behind everyone's backs for the horde for the King himself - but he sought the wild. It only left him to silence with his own thoughts. Each death brought down by his own horde kept driving the empty hole wider, and deeper in him. It was until the mice that something just went _snap!_ It was as if someone had smacked a two-by-four in him.

_When I get back to the Abbey again... Gonna do something different. Not sure what but something._

He slackened his pace to walking He became exhausted as the last bits of adrenaline drained from his system and from the running. At least this way, he reasoned with himself, he'll get to River Moss quickly. He sighed bitterly, nonetheless.

_  
I wonder if that tavern upriver is still open… Pretty time to feel drunk._

The River Moss indeed came rather quickly to his speculations due to his haste. All the while he kept to the woods, to the right of the path, even as the sun started to creep up over the eastern horizon. Golden shafts splayed through the rich, mature growth of the Mossflower Woods, accompanied by the glorious display of violet and red across the morning sky. The early song of birds began abruptly as the morning dews began lifting from their nightly rest. This gave Jaden a serene sense of peace; but it was short lived. He was exhausted and had to sit down to rest.

Leaning up against a tree trunk, he breathed deeply in the moist morning air. A slight breeze stirred from the sun's expanding warmth and gently stirred his black fur. His eyelids seemed to take a life of their own; and before he knew it, he was fast asleep.


	2. Confrontation

Shouting. Cursing. Banging, and shoving. Jaden awoke to a rough start as his head slammed into something. If he was still asleep - he wasn't now, wide away, staring at some chamber twist and roll before his eyes. The crimson carpet; those intricate chandeliers; and those insignias. It was very familiar.. Banners hung on the wall between a pair of giant, rough oaken doors. The doors were crafted thick and heavy and had hinges as large as a badger's forarms. The banners were blood red, with a depiction of a great snow-capped mountain. A castle resided between a second smaller slope, and a large _Northern Hellsman_ insignia spelled across the top of the banner in an ancient language. 

"Get up you piece of peasant garbage!"

He scrambled to look around but was kicked roughly in the side. He caught sight of the deliverer, and realized where exactly he was. Those blue uniforms - they are none other than the guards of the Northern Mossflower Camp. They would _not_ be that heavily armed if not the King were here. _The King?_

_King in... Northern Mossflower? But why? I thought he-_

Another voice. The voice resounded from an apparently strong beast, due to the fact that he lifted Jaden up with great strength and haste. "Prepare yourself!"

He was assisted, or better, _prepared_, to the red carpet. The carpet was long and rolled underneath the giant doors. He looked up, and thought they resembled the doors to Redwall in size. Except – narrower. He wasn't sure if he would rather keep to insolent woodlanders than the King…

The doors were thrown wide open by more guards and he was thrown inside rather roughly. His best efforts to keep himself upright were short lived – he tripped over his heels and sprawled on the carpet, cold from the stone floor underneath. The rough landing ink-vined old and fresh pains through his body. He watched in slight amusement through the pain as the doors were rather quickly shut and barred by guards from the inside. The guards were impressibly strong; Jaden had tried to push the large gates of Redwall on his own and struggled with even that. These doors were smaller. He could only imagine how heavy those doors were.

Jaden lay his head back down on the ground. He coughed, which hurt his chest. His ribs felt tight and bruised, and the soft of his stomach was tight and tense. An attempt at uprighting himself ended up in pain in his abdomen - no doubt where he had been cut from the squirrel - and so he lay back down in defeat.

_Ah, yes, thank-you –_ cough ­–_ for the wonderful greeting for your _beloved_ cousin._

He cringed. A place where, he figured, he had been kicked or roughly handled, spasmed.

_Erg! If the King is in here… I could care less right about now._

Jaden blinked clear his vision and gazed at the ceiling. The ceiling was surprisingly stark beauty. It was domed and high, with murals of an intricate depiction of the history of Mossflower painted across it. Badgers, Salamandastron; Mice, Redwall; Squirrels and other creatures, Mossflower. The mural spanned around until it came to an unfinished section. In it was depicted something rather different than the other woodlander accomplishments: A large Wildcat stood in the midst of beasts suffering; those same woodlander mice, squirrels, moles, hares, and _badgers_... all lay in a crumbled heap beneath his foot. Some fleshed, while others mere piles of bones. The wildcat stood proudly above the heap with a trident in his paw. The Wildcat he instantly identified as the King of the Northlands. Obviously from the picture he had much more in mind than continuing to dominate the Northlands, considering the fact that no woodlanders – outside of slaves – exists in the Northlands. Possibly in hidden crags and crevasses in the Snowy North, but who's to say that they won't be sought out?

In his few visitations with the King, he had come to know that the King desired to conquer _earth_. It became blatantly clear. The King didn't keep his eyes focused on one thing. He kept them ahead to his goals. That was something that sprung a tad bit of admiration in Jaden, but it didn't take away his secretive abhorrence of him. But, this desire of the King wasn't a well-known fact. Yes, hordes indeed had their rumors - the King _must_ be thinking about conquering all of the land since he sacked the Northlands and owns Southsward through lizards. If he could indeed capture the harsh Northlands and do away with the strong, persistant otter tribes, he could do away with the measly _peasant_-types in Mossflower. Those Mossflowerians may have ideal, but they do not have strength. Their strength had relied on Salamandostron for guidance and support. And, curse the fools, strategic positions Jaden himselffed them. Jaden could not recall when he had added to those rumoring conversations of his horde; but if he did, it had to do with questions of the direction of the NMC. For technical purposes he was assigned with the NMC since they were the closest Hellsman division to Mossflower. Sooner or later though, he sensed, this might change one day. The King seemed to favor him more and more with each assignment. Yes – it gave himself leverage, but this leverage is meaningless. It ingrained tension every turn Jaden made. Even if he didn't visit the Abbey there was the fact that he did feed them information. And even with the Abbey – each moment he stayed there became increasingly… tensioned. Paranoid, yes: he suspected a traitor, almost, to appear from the midst of the "good" Abbey dwellers.

Jaden had been in this room of the NMC once or twice before to address the horde leader of the Northern Mossflower Camp before - probably to get an assassin assignment from direct order of the King, relayed through the _darling_ NMC leader. Darling? He chuckled to himself. The NMC leader was a stoat, and a fat one, fattened with the wealth from his horde's pillaging. He was usually found to be doing what he does best: eating. Eating, and scoffing obnoxiously loud. Smacking and shoving down berries and pies and birds as he issued orders midst a rain of spittle. Jaden grunted as he made himself comfortable on the floor. The thought of the leader reminded him that he was laying face up in the room of the leader of the NMC. And – those guards. He quickly remembered that those were the _King's_ personal body guards, and the King's own entourage of banners and colors. In a fit of half-curiosity and half-fear, he looked over and up towards the throne to see if anyone was there watching him.

No one was. No one was there. Or at least he hoped so. If they were - he didn't care. It felt nice to rest on the cool floor in the slight warmness of the room. He just stared up at the ceiling, enjoying the silence and _rest_. Didn't have to bother with renegade squirrels or woodlanders. Or waking to being tossed around like a haversack.

_Ahhhh – my bow. _He looked over to be sure. _Took my weapons and things. _

Snort_. Hope they gave my stuff better care then they did me._

He tried to imagine how he had arrived here - most likely by cart as had happened before. Twice before, actually, by order of the King himself. The King only and always did that to his enemies and friends. The final judgment between friend and foe, though, rested on his initial greeting to the individual. The King was rather _kindly_ for the reigning leader of the Northlands – but Jaden made up his mind long ago not to rest on his kindness. If slaughtering otter women and children before men's eyes was considered a _kindness._

A noise - something caught his attention. Chewing. Silverware against utensils. Jaden didn't recognize it past his thoughts. Jaden, feeling quite irritated with himself for lack of awareness and the bearer of the noise, looked over, expecting the noisy and irritable leader of the NMC to be seated somewhere.

But it wasn't the leader. It was _the King_. He had been staring at Jaden while eating his meal with intense curiosity. Those two strong, bright blue eyes of a wildcat greeted him with a power of their own. This power seemed to persuade Jaden to close his open mouth, and force himself to his feet despite his great pains.

"King! King of the Northlands! -I am so sorry, your majesty! Forgive your servant for being so-"

The King waved a paw holding a fork. He swallowed. "Cease this boot-kissing at once. Come." He motioned to the table he sat at. A long dining table was laid out to the left of the throne in the chamber; on it was spread rich foods and ripe fruits. "Dine with me and we shall talk. Please."

Jaden, humbled by the request, quickly and silently made his way across to the opposite end of the short dining table. Though he was glad it was on the opposite end, he couldn't feel but intensely close to the King. He knew the price to pay for a traitor; hung, tortured, drawn and quartered. He had witnessed it once before and once was enough.

"Sit, servant of the... High King of the Northlands." The King regarded his title in a rather odd tone. One that was not holding to the power behind its title. "Eat and be filled. The village South of here provided this abundant meal for the King."

Jaden sat down promptly as told and scooted his chair forward. He looked up to the King. The King thus nodded in approval of the act and slipped a bite of fish into his mouth. Jaden looked down the long column of food: though the food was delightful in appearance, and even more pleasant of scent, it was ashes to him. He was a traitor. He had fed secrets that his trained eye noticed; those that the King so often hinted at; and those that he knew through commands and conversations.

The beady eyes of the smoked herring seemed to glare accusingly at him. _I know!_

"Jaden Rath d'Ajenhia. Son of Luke Rath d'Ajenhia and Lucia Arkelles d'Ajenhia, brother to Pelinia Rowlslath d'Ajenhia."

Jaden cleared his throat as he recited, "You are well-knowledged, my Lord."

The King laughed almost immediately, bringing Jaden to his senses. He careened forward while stifling chuckles, shaking a finger. "You are quick-witted, my servant. I am glad I have your _earnest _use under my paws. A great mind put to horde task is a waste, I say.

A silent, gazing pause. The King's eyes remain unblinking. "Are your choices going well? Are you satisfied with them?"

Jaden nodded once, daring one glance with eye contact to the King. It was going well. He had made quick and covered several jobs while using the time left over to visit the Abbey. A quick scout of the population of a nearby village to the North-East end of Mossflower, finding a runaway ferret slave, and checking on the mountain Sala. The mountain was in usual condition. Still contaned noisy and grungy hares, and that Badger Lord.

The King set aside his fish and carefully chose a yellow pear. He gathered its essence under his nose before taking a large bite of it. "Tell me - how is Mossflower?"

_He suspects. Does he know?_

"The woodlanders are still around, my Lord. I-"

"I know that," the King interrupted non-chalantly. "Go on about the Fire Mountain. I wonder if its… strength still resides."

_Diversion. Ok, good…_

"I approached it, but was harshly declined. They seem sharp and focused with their skills, ready to pounce on any vermin that crossed path. I caught a runner who was friendly, unlike the others. Some village was complaining of some ruckus of that ferret I was tracking. They had gotten to him before I could."

"Good, good. Rockjaw was a nuisance to my ways. And the Badgerlord? Is he still alive?"

Jaden nodded. "Yes. He approached me from the gates. Fearsome creature he is." He caught the curious sparkle in the wildcat's eyes. He added quickly, "But not as fierce and strong as my Lord, the King."

The Wildcat delicately took another bite of the pear. "Yes yes – the Badger Lord indeed has not taken the Northlands. Good, good. And eastern Mossflower?"

Jaden picked through his words, carefully avoiding any hint of nervousness. He hoped to high heaven that _he didn't know_. The King was most often direct about things. If he played around, that usually meant he didn't know. Seeking information, at that. _Hopefully…_ "The woodlands are still quiet, but the occasional mouse or otter group lives-"

"No, Jaden. Redwall."

Jaden licked his lips. He glanced at the fish again. _Traitor. Traitor_, it said with its eyes. Jaden looked back up to the King, who had taken a curious gaze at the fish as well. "-Oh, is that not good? Here - try some salmon. It's a good year." He clapped his hands and five servants promptly emerged from behind what Jaden figured to be oddly shaped tapestries behind the throne. The servants moved with precision.

The servants exchanged the eaten foods on the table (which were many to the fox's surprise) in what seemed one fluid gesture. Jaden's herring was replaced with a salmon as if reading the King's mind – or evesdropping. For whom and why, Jaden didn't know. The servants then disappeared with plates as quickly as they had appeared. When the last ruffling of the supposed tapestry subsided, the King leaned forward slightly as if expecting something.

Oh. Yes. Redwall.

"Redwall - I passed it along the way. They're strong of spirit, sir. And willing to fight, as usual. But bland in their creative devices. No doubt they would fight the King's ways with help of Sala."

The Wildcat set his jaw. His tone shifted slightly. "Yes, such as the last time. And the time before that. I doubt though, for some strange reason… that they will not. But that's another issue for another day."

"Mmmmm. Redwall," the King toned musingly, testing the weight of the word.. "Surely they must have some secrets locked away there. Don't you think?"

Jaden nodded quickly in agreement. "Oh yes. Such as the Sword of Martin. - Er, I'm sure that's somewhere in there. Rusty probably... Some relic of a dead leader they consider sacred."

"The Sword of Martin, yes. The red-stone pommeled sword of their... warrior." His eyes were suddenly searching of Jaden's expression. Jaden took noticed of it quickly – the King was rather an expressionless type, but one who had been in the service of the King could tell the difference between curiosity and question. It was in his eyes. Searching, and looking intently. "_Surely_ you have seen it?"

Jaden looked to the salmon. It had no head, to his relief. But the quaint relief was nothing compared to the pointed question. _He knows. He knows! _He looked back up, half-hoping that the inquiry in the eyes was gone. But it wasn't.

No use now. Either risk told horrors by lying, or risk untold horrors by telling the truth.

_Cornered._

"Well. Yes, my Lord." He sighed and remarked further, "The King's servant has indeed seen it."

"Ah yes. I know of that." Jaden looked up oddly. _He does know! But how? The only vermin to cross into that area of Mossflower, less that far south of the Northlands is that ferret._ The _dead_ ferret, the headless fish before Jaden reminded him. The Wildcat carefully selected a cherry and gently prodded it with a claw. "Ahhhh, my dear Jaden. Let us skip the formalities and this nonsensical meanderous talk. I hate beating around bushes.

"I've known that you have been visiting the Abbey. I know that you have visited for... quite some time."

An awkward silence fell on Jaden. His head nodded down in defeat. He could imagine the King's command now: the distinct two-clap of his hands for the guards, ordering for the guards to drag him to the dungeons of this woodlander-built place, to the vermin-built torture chambers. Where a sickle-wielding bafoon of some cloaked deranged hordemember awaited his doom. Probably lost his mind after countless seasons of assasinating.

_Figures! It was coming to me._

The words of the Abbot suddenly rang in his head_ "Those who live by the sword die by the sword."_

Great timing.

The Wildcat continued. "And Redwall. I know of that as well." Jaden swallowed. The verdict was no doubt bound to approach. Possibly. Hopefully, if not, another diversion to prolong his sentencing…

"Get to know them. Learn of their weaknesses. Learn of what and how their beloved Abbey is built of, any points of weakness that could be infiltrated. I have tried in seasons past to obliterate them... But they are strong in spirit and unwilling to _die_."

…_What!_

"Surely they have a weakness. You will find it out, no doubt. And you will be visited by me in due time to report of your findings. I have expected much of you, Jaden, and for this you shall be handed much more, and your zealousness for My sake shall be rewarded justly." The King's wording was almost ritualistic. "Redwall is the pinnacle of Mossflower; as a snake to its body, if Redwall is destroyed - the body will cease to exist and I will take hold of this… body. Now, as a faithful servant of the King… assist me in cutting off this head."

Jaden stared blankly at the King. _What..? Why am I not dead?_

His father's voice chimed in: _-Yet!_

_But – the King. I know of the Redwallers' weaknesses already. It's blantant and obvious! Why wouldn't he go ahead and ask of me right now since he knows that I've been there before?_

"My Lord – if you may allow me to say," Jaden said quickly, voice shaky. "If I have been there before –" _Admittance! But, no use trying to hide anyway. _"Then perhaps my King knows that I have considered their strengths and weaknesses already if… I have a mind greater than a hordebeast?"

Jaden's face flushed. He _knew _better than to not ask something of that, weighing the question on the good grace of the King. Perhaps the King is playing with him – perhaps.

_Yes. Toying with me, as to kill me with the rest of the Redwallers when he arrives?_

The King laughed aloud. Jaden tensed visibly at the laugh. "Nay, my servant, my friend –" _Friend…? _ "-All good _tactile _observations must be repeated as to… check for error."

Jaden stifled a sigh. But he held his throat still – _The King thinks I haven't gone there more than once or twice._

"And, my servant, your _just_ reward shall be a throne of lesser power, but of more power than all of my leaders."

Jaden 's mind went blank. Then it reprocessed what the King had just said. "-My Lord?"

"Second in Command to the people's Majesty. You shall be made my right hand."

Jaden sat back in his chair in shock. He could never bring himself to the thought of betraying the Abbey. Despite the fact that he did get hate from a majority of the Abbeybeasts, he loved it there. And despite his reservations of it - it was the home he had never had. Peaceful in its moralistic qualities, though idealistically so. But physically abundant in food and possibility infamilial-like life. Friendship. That is what he had craved most in his early years, only to be a soft clay pot fired in the harsh heat of the horde life. He had traded genuine for exaltation, and communion for competition.

-And despite all of that part of his life, here resided the core of the counterpart to the Abbey: the King of the Northern Hellsman. King of Northlands. Soon to be, King of the _Earth_. Southsward would be no trouble since the Queen of Southsward died by the hands of the lizards. With her forces cut off from its head, they were forced to retreat northwards into Mossflower to offer what services they had left from the uprising, or sail away to wherever the seas took them. The lizards in themselves were a matter of simple controlling. Feed them, and they remain loyal.

Most of the woodlanders from Southsward returned to Mossflower, though. That's part of the reason why Mossflower survived. The King decided to hold back and keep the borders intact while waiting. No one knew why he waited; it had remained a mystery because of the quickness to his conquering of the Northlands. He had swept his broad arm of power across the Northlands in the matter of a season, killing off otter tribes and whatever remnants of woodlanders remained up there - and to stop suddenly? That was unusual to his manner. The King himself did agree that Salamandostron assisted the Mossflower beasts, but it was no doubt the King's armies now could overtake it.

But the King was wise, and thus feared. His minions surprisingly held their King with respect and dignity. A culture of shame upon those who disagreed with the King arose, for fear of being banded traitors. There were uprisings to overthrow the King; but to the help of assassins like Jaden they were subdued quickly.

The wildcat King rose his brow at the perplex silence of Jaden. "You shall accept this kind offer, no?"

Jaden had no choice but to accept. It was either this or be killed after hours of torture. Days, even. Jaden was tough and tested in the ways of a horde and wild, but he didn't want to test his strength that way, oh no He shuddered once at the thought and forced himself to intone, "Yes, my Lord."

The King nodded "Good. Now carry on with haste, for my legions of warriors shall depart in two weeks time."

_Two weeks!_ Jaden flashed with a cold sweat. _That's barely enough time to even prepare for a battle!_

His father's voice answered back. _Prepare... for a battle lost. _

_No._ _It's not over yet_

"At the end of the first week you shall be visited and will report your findings." The Wildcat said as he clapped his hands. Servants appeared and began to disassemble the dinner. "Now leave, my servant. Make haste!"

Jaden pushed back his chair, about knocking it over. He nervously made his way across the hall and out the smaller door to the side of the larger doors. The small door resembled a gate.

_Gates._ The word rattled in his mind as he clambered out of the throne room into the antechamber, and from the small antechamber to the outside. The guards were still there with an ever watchful eye and tight grip on their battle axes. The doors exited opposite of each other on the left and right wall of the antechamber. A coach was waiting for him, and remembering that dark cherry wood vaguely, he got in. After the door was shut he instantly remembered how he had been brought here.

He remembered having the taste of herbs in his mouth when he awoke dozingly in the cart. He must have been drugged as to not disturb him. The King indeed had odd was of having his minions visit him. Possible _second in command_ minions. Betray the Abbot altogether now with Redwall and become _second in command?_

The word rang familiar in his ears for some strange reason. Jaden couldn't put his thumbclaw on it; He looked out the barred window for answers as sunlight streamed in, but the forest of north-eastern Mossflower didn't have any answers.


	3. Fox Among Wolves

Then Jaden recalled - it had been some lone summer day, many seasons ago, when he was conversing with his sister. He couldn't remember what exactly was said during that conversation except that he wanted to be next to the King in everything he did. His parents ridiculed him as a dibbun for this as any parent of that time would. He didn't even carve out his first bow yet, and if he could not do that - according to his father - he didn't have a single chance. 

Jaden narrowed his eyes at the thought. That was the day when his father forced the gap between him and his son. _No _- he objected. _It was never there_. The connection. His father had always been cold and distant from his family. It was the norm for life in the horde. You had to dig up your own will within yourself to survive, and even then it was tough when no son recieved that kind of inner direction from their fathers. Jaden recalled the day when he found his father hanging limply by a noose by the rafters of his house. It had upset his mother in a bitter way; his sister had moved out to be the wife of some horde leader; and he - he didn't take to it at all. He didn't even cry. It was simply as if a stranger had entered and hung himself in his house. After that day he left his embittered mother for a rougher horde life. Drinking, pillaging, and all that good stuff. Most of all he got to sharpen his skills with his bow on _live_ targets. After a while, though, that escape came to pass - and bore away on him. That was when he was called to the King's direct service to deal with traitors.

_Desensitised _vermin_ I am_, he thought. And his instincts proved true. He had hundreds of minds burned into his memory. The thrill from following his enemy with bow up in the trees died down after a while because he lost interest in them - those pitiful glances back, wondering where the next arrow would come from; and then in a flash, they realize its too late to move. Pinned to the ground. Or a tree.

He rememberd the mice. - Or a woodshed. One of the families that had actually been nice to him. Only aquaintences though - _Thank heavens_, he commented bitterly. If he had known them - like he knows the Abbot - he would probably consider the same design as his late father had.

And with more accusation of his own self, his conscience pricked him. _The Abbot_, it said. _The Abbot needs you_.

He then realized where his thoughts wandered. Escaping Mossflower. Escaping the clutches of both his conscience by the woodlanders and fear by the King. But he could wretch himself completely, not even in the solitude of the cart.

_The seas!_ _Always wanted to become a fisherman or sailor._ He chuckled dryly at himself at yet another idea not even asked of his father for approval. The idea of a fox doing an otter's job? Or in his horde's case - a rat's job. That was dirty work; both counterparts were approved as being dirty dishwater, dishrags, dogs, and the like, christened by the ever-so-more cleanly horde grunts. Who care nothing about dreams. Dreams evolved into killing woodlanders, conquoring much land, pillaging villages, and committing rape - so much change from children's playthings of sword fighting. That was the dream his people knew - his blood knew, his horde knew. That's the only kind of dreams they ever had known. Once the clay of a dibbun hardened by the fires of insensitive and _dead_ types, it was all over. Damned to the life they were born into.

_But you arn't, _the voice said.

_Yes... I'm not. _The tod stared out the window from the darkness of the coach. He was in on the dirt road again.

He grunted to himself. _Not only will I sail the seas... but I'll become a philospher. Think about this stuff way too much... _

_Seas. What is by the sea?_

_Salamandostron! _He realized that. _But no - the badger lord is too old, the hares too small in number to face the King's _vast_ army. _ He recalled the day when he was standing on a mountain in midsummer. One of the mountains of the Snowy North, overlooking a valley. The valley was swarmed with at least fifteen thousand of the King's minions. The rest of the army was scattered throughout the southern Northlands.

That was four months ago, he recalled. He also realized - that the King had been assembling this invasion more quickly than he expected. Four months for fifteen thousand! If the King was going to commence invasion of Mossflower in two weeks, the legions had been traveling for at least three of those months. No doubt they would pick up more forces as they passed through towns - the number could be bursting at the twenty thousand mark.

Southsward is swarmed with lizards. Their population had exploded ever since woodlanders declined from that land... the last census was before the Southsward Uprising. They had counted two thousand lizards, newts, frogs, and those types. Knowing those scaley types, they could reproduce rather quickly - possibly to seven thousand by now. If the King has been arranging the attack from the rear in combination with the legions from the north, they had no chance of going south. The lizards would make a perimeter and eat off whoever crossed. That's how they had driven woodlanders northwards. Up the line to the literal border of Southsward.

Salamandonstron could only survive for so long. Its food supply was only fit for the hares and badger lord in the mountain, not all of Mossflower.

_The seas! The seas are the only route then._

Jaden knew what he had to do right there and then. Inform the Abbot. He must have a great enough power to pursuade the Elders of the various villages and provinces of Mossflower - gather food quickly; but focus on provisions that can't be caught at sea. And take only what you need. Use the remaining ottertribes' boats. He recalled seeing five of those large beauties docked three weeks ago in the port town immedietly south and west of Sala. It took him a day or two to reach it traveling rather quickly. But he had traveled alone - expect four days with all the Redwallers and Mossflower peoples. And - two days to prepare. That would give them a head start of about a week. Board the boats quickly, make way downstream to the wide inlet, and sail off to sea.

_To _where_, though?_ That question stopped Jaden midthought. He hadn't thought of that. Before he could consider even an "I have no clue", the cart stopped and the door opened roughly.

The two burly beasts - of the personal escorts of the cart of the King and servants - ushered Jaden out of the cart. He almost forgot to grab his belongings in there. Must have been left in there when he approached the King, as he did not recall getting jabbed with his bow or daggers when falling.

To the amazement of the six personal escorts of the cart, the tod took off bounding down the road faster than the six could push and pull a hunk of wood around. To _where_ they did not know the tod went. They were merely servants of the King as well.

As Jaden ran fiercly, the idea of escaping by sea came to him again.

_You coward_. _Running from the enemy is not the way to live! Fight for Mossflower alongside your Brothers and Sisters!_

Brothers. And Sisters. Abbot Karuseth had called him _Brother_ Jaden, but that doesn't mean everyone else would.

_Fight for freedom. For a better Mossflower - and earth._

A part of Jaden scorned that phrase instantly. The horde part of him despised that kind of grand dream and adventure. That kind of idealism didn't exist in logic. It's either be killed, or run - _for heavens sake!_

He then reconsidered the facts: if Mossflower - combined with the two cities out west past the woodlands and the Long Patrol of the East - could fight off the King's then unorganized hordes that long ago, then they could fight them off again. But it would be hard, and a dangerous risk to take. The idea of risk with danger appealed suddenly to Jaden, as if his father had instilled him a strong missing part of his masculine self many seasons ago.

Danger and risk. As opposed to what? Capture and defeat? The King's horde ships were known to be the fastest on the earth - outrunning any quick-minded skipper any day. They would probably be chased down after spotting the white sails of the otter ships at sea. So the sea would be out of the question then. There was no room for second plans, no margin for error.

Capture and defeat was a concept Jaden could not bear to keep in mind. Forfeiting all future generations after _now? _After what they had strived to fight for? The exact moment the woodlanders hesitate is when they will forfeit. Doubt and "fate" will take over the risk that comes from choice, and the will that springs from hope. If he had learned anything of positive value from horde life, it was this: hesitation kills.

_It's settled then_. _Fight or die. I won't allow a pitiful excuse to let the reigns of Mossflower pass away. I won't allow those written into the history books of Redwall library pass to ashes, either. Their own efforts will not go wasted by this. _Jaden continued running down the Dirt Road path as his footpaws kicked up puffs of dust behind him.

Despite his best interests, his waned strength could carry him a quarter of the way running to Redwall Abbey from where he had been dropped - that being just south of the River Moss. It would take him several hours to get to Redwall, but not more than to sunset. He had slept little - or he had slept through a day, and it was the next. But his sensitive eyes and fatigued muscles said otherwise. His body screamed _sleep!_ while his mind said _walk. _It was just enough to make his muscles shaky and steps uncertain.

He was partly used to this demeanor, though. Horde life made you used to sleeping on irregular schedules. It was marching one moment, scavenging for food for a brief stop, then eating on the run. Or going without food for several days. Jaden recalled that day vaguely when that actually happened. But his tired mind was in other places. It wasn't functioning completely, but it was alive enough to order his feet to march and to keep in his mind at least the feeling of the urgency at hand.

Jaden arrived at the Abbey about half an hour after the sun set, to his surprise. He had made it. The gates were just beginning to close when he approached. The two guards gave him an awkward look, probably due to the fact that he had been at the Abbey under twenty hours ago. He had never visited twice within a three month span.

They immedietly let him in only after spotting the dark circles and fallen complexion of his dark-furred features. His paled eyes lolling about lazily, he muttered, as if scraping about like a dibbun in a pie-tin, licking out last bits of energy from his frame. "Keriseth..."

The Abbot was conversing with Gatekeeper Pheonix in the Gatehouse. Jaden was ushered with the utmost haste to the bed inside, despite the hedgehog's quiet and murmering objections. The Abbot simply looked over to him once with passiveness, and directed his attention back to Jaden.

"Jaden! What is the matter? Where have you been? Why-"

"Mmmm. The King's armies... gathering." Jaden's eyes flittered as he attempted to stay awake. "Ehhhh... talk 'bout in mornin'."

The tod's eyes closed promptly. He was fast asleep. The Abbot observed the tod for a moment before standing up from kneeling by the bedside. He turned to Pheonix. Pheonix was aghast and perplexed at what just happened. Not only was there a vermin in his bed - his bed was occupied. "So if this mutterin' fool is sleepin' 'ere, where am _I_ goin' ta sleep?"

The Abbot gestured. "Let us not disturb the fox brother. I-"

Pheonix grunted. "_Brother_ Yeah. Brother. If he was a Brother-"

The Abbot opened the ancient gatehouse door and waited for Pheonix to take leave. "Mind yourself, Pheonix. We each are evil in our own ways. Vermin, or woodlander."

Pheonix reluctantly left. The Abbot followed after him. "Give me your key, Pheonix."

Pheonix peered back at the Abbot very quickly. He handed it over, but with question. "Why not lock 'im ou'side? He'll catch a wonderful cold an' we won't have to keep shovelin' the Abbey larders out fer 'im. I've seen him tuck in quite a few vittles, ya know. Vermin in company ain't cheap."

The Abbot gave him a menacing glare. Every word was bursting with potency: "_Mind_ yourself, Brother." The two walked in silence for a moment as they bridged the gap to the Great Hall doors.. The Abbot calmed down a bit. "You, out of all creatures should understand this. You must realize how difficult a time he has."

Pheonix simply grunted again. The Abbot swung the door open. "Brother Pheonix, it isn't every day you run across a vermin who questions his instinct."

Pheonix spoke after the Abbot closed the door. He turned on heel and stared down at the Abbot. "Don't tell me about instinct. 'Twasn't instinct that had my brother killed."

"_Individuals_... Brother Pheonix."

"Oh don't play that with me. Ain't nuthin' changin' them. He's jus' makin' all that.."

The Abbot crossed his arms and stamped a foot. "Let me remind you, young one." Pheonix was at the most half the Abbot's age. The Abbot was greying in hair. "You stole pie from the windowsill not once, not twice - not even after getting _two_ scrubbings in the Abbey pond to your great objections. _Three _times, as a dibbun."

Pheonix dismissed the Abbot. "I was 'ungry, an' I didn't know any better."

The Abbot nodded to Pheonix. "I guess ye have found some common ground to our vermin Brother, then." The Abbot left Pheonix to stubborn silence. Kareseth felt like giving him an earful, but he was too troubled by Jaden's sudden entrance - and that tired, glum face. Jaden had trusted the Abbot with information that he did not dare relay to the Elders several times before. The Abbot felt as though it was time to tell them. Time had waited long enough; the tensious peace had now grown any better. No, Pheonix wouldn't know - he has always been stubborn. That's why the Abbot had suggested to him that he be Gatekeeper instead of the Abbot himself. The Abbot thought of retiring as his eyesight had been failing and body began to fail him, but he didn't. He couldn't. Jaden had been the first major success that happened to his life. He wasn't about to give up his prized position and power for the sake of a more comfortable end. _No_ - _I'll go down in flames before I die_. The Abbot then affirmed his past reguards to his predecessor - the fool next in line to him would abuse his position, he feels. Yes, the Abbot himself questioned Jaden even in their most closest times, but it didn't rule out what a great potential Jaden was to Mossflower. _Is_. Or is it was?

Jaden _had_ mentioned something about the King's forces gathering, and the King gaining some desire to approach Mossflower. But he hadn't believed it at first - it had been a decade of seasons of peace that his woodlander people had enjoyed. And this fox came out of the blue, filled with curiosity; hidden intrigue; and covering of himself for fear of the Abbey dweller's harsh viewing of all vermin. The Abbot assured the Elders he himself was hard to convince. He had, indeed, attained the wise position of Abbot. Not many could be approved for that. Wisdom was one thing, but being accepting of all levels of woodlanders was standard. There were dibbuns to deal with; their problems were obvious. Then there were the young adults; their problems were a little more deeply rooted. But neither compared with adults. Adults were like dibbuns, except they had their spoken or unspoken justifications for doing and saying things. The Abbot's position has slipped in terms of respect in the past few decades, but people still take heed. Because he is the Father of Redwall, Redwall being the pinnacle of Mossflower and its history - not only in the present, but in the past. But much more so in the past.

The Abbot sighed as he trudged to the hallway. It'll be good to retire... permenently, after this life. But not until he figures out why Jaden came back so quickly, and why he is just so exhausted. - The King's armies are gathering. What does this mean?

Kerseth suddenly smirked as he opened the door to his quarters. Jaden knew that the Abbot hated the fact that he often left him with a word or two in confusion.

Ah, silly Jaden.

- Silly, silly, vermin.

Morning arose to the hustlings of the few who dared to rise so early. Meaning, cooks, cellarhogs, and Jaden. Jaden was strangely wide awake, pacing in the Gatehouse. He took no heed to the homey yet simple interior of the room. The owner must like everything in order, he thought offhandish. He looked at the scrolls - _Pity that those will probably be ashes_.

Jaden loved history. His horde was a scattered mass of... bogus myths. Telling from how non-interesting their history is in comparision with the Abbey's, the Abbey books of history and lore and such had hooked him. They were instilled with the ideal of courage and adventure, not raping pillaging and killing - and calling that adventure. But he was very dissapointed - the Abbey dweller's attitudes did not reflect the spirit detailed in his readings.

_Wonder if they would listen to me. _

The sound of a lock sounded from the door - he hadn't realized it was locked. But to his relief the Abbot walked in. Him and him only.

"Abbot Kareseth!" Jaden hurried to the Abbot, gesturing wildly. "We have problems. The Abbey is going to be under seige in two weeks time! - And sooner, possibly!"

The Abbot looked oddly at him. "My word, are you alright?" His eyes wavered. "Enough sleep ye have had?"

Jaden sighed. "The King - his armies. They're coming."

The Abbot bit his upper lip for a moment. "Who told you?"

"The King himself."

Abbot Kereseth frowned. "Oh dear. This is a grave situation... very, very grave indeed."

There had indeed been rumours of the Northern Hellsman invading for many a dreary season. Anticipation. But they never came - until now, it seems. For the King to declare this - it was an ultimatum that overruled all desire of the Hellsman grunts and rumours.

"Yes, Abbot Kereseth - it is! But not enough that Mossflower can fight it - again!"

Abbot Kereseth was taken back slightly. "Jaden... It was enough to _survive_ for the first three seasons of the peace."

"And are you not standing here? Not standing here breathing? Are not the peoples of Mossflower... living?"

"Yes, but my dear Jaden-"

"And didn't Mossflower free itself of-"

Abbot Kereseth cut him off. "I would love to debate this, my dear Jaden, but you must realize where the mind of Mossflower and Redwall Abbey has wandered. They will annilhate themselves! They fear the King and his men, yes, but they don't think they do. Their _fear_ is what drives them on to be so obnoxiously moralistic and apprehensive of every inkling of a vermin that exists. They _fear_, Jaden, they fear! Their hope is gone. Their numbers have diminished because of the war. Relatives, friends, cousins - dead! Ask _anyone_ that exists in this Abbey right now and they can name at least one beast they knew that died at the hands of a vermin. They won't fight, they won't even believe _me _that they are coming, more less... some vermin who has been trying to be something he is not. Even if they did fight... ugh, let us not discuss even that."

That hit Jaden hard. His expression carried it well. The Abbot sensed it full well, but his firm stance and slightly quivering lip explained. "I don't hate you Jaden, you are the closest friend anyone can ask for - just this once, Jaden, just this once I _must_ object."

Jaden looked hard at the Abbot. His eyes were now searching. His expression suddenly turned as cold as ice - he breathed in deeply, pulled his chin up, stood up straight. "If you must. But I will not let the people of this Abbey die for fear. If they're going to overcome the armies of the Hellsman they must overcome this fear."

The Abbot shook his head. "Jaden - how can ye be a leader when ye have not overcome the fear inside of you yourself first?"

Rejection. Discontent. Indifference. The fear of isolation had plagued Jaden all his life over all his troubles. He had avoided all instances of conflict as much as he could for as long as he could remember. The Abbot knew this - Kereseth was very fit for his job, Jaden reasoned, for being so discerning. "Thirty seasons. Thirty seasons I have given myself, waiting in vain for finding hope, and I've never come acrossed it. Now I have the opportunity."

The Abbot remained between him and the doorway. Jaden swallowed and looked down on the Abbot. He was shorter. "This hurts me to say this, but I must ask you to move."

The Abbot looked to the ground and sighed. "Very well Jaden." The mouse met Jaden's firm emerald gaze and spoke before doing as bidded. "Let me not obstruct you from this."

Jaden was caught by the shoulder before he could get out. Jaden turned sharply, glaring: "What!" his eyes snarled. The Abbot quickly dropped his grip and sighed coldly. "Be careful, my friend. You are a child among snakes here."

Jaden's gaze did remain firm, but it softened to determination. He nodded once to the Abbot and was gone.

The Abbot remained in the gatehouse for a moment, but quickly decided to follow Jaden.

The Feast of Summer was in continue; it was a week long event of celebration, entrailing games, feasting, talking, dancing, and much gossiping and talking. What made this event so well off was the gathering of the "Sons of Redwall" - the leaders and elders of the towns and provinces in Mossflower and surrounding country. These leaders and elders had come to the Feast of Summer as long as any beast could remember - most likely every since Mossflower united in cause against the Northern Hellsman. It was a mixed blessing for Khalon - he didn't have to waste precious days to spread the word and learn of their getting the word.

But he had to wake them. Jaden wandered around a bit before realizing the solution.


	4. Trails in the Woods

_Broooooooonggggggg! Broooooooooooongggggggg! Broooooooooooooong!_

The bronzen bell tolled its bellowing rings as Jaden heaved his weight down on the cord. Pungeant to the Redwallers, yes, to be in the early morning hours - and moreso since a _vermin_ rang it. Lucky for him. But Jaden was determined in spite of his odds. He had always relayed the information through the Abbot, who then went through the Elders. Jaden thought it would be privvy to theirselves to inform them the damning news directly.

It was after the eighth consecutive ring that someone noticed. It was the irritable Pheonix, red-eye rimmed and angry.

"_What _in the blazes - _what _are you _doing!_"

Two more rings. Jaden stumbled away from the cord, chest heaving. "Get the Redwallers and Elders... in the Great Hall."

Pheonix was about to object when he was brushed aside by Jaden. Jaden ran up the infirmary and down the stairs into the halls.

"Go to the Great Hall! Redwallers and Mossflower - go to the Great Hall!"

Many an angry look and mutter from sleepy faces peered out of their doors as the voice passed. Jaden ended at the Great Hall. The Abbey beasts and guests crowded into the Great Hall - mostly in anger, one could guess, from their expressions.

"What in hellblazes is this?"

"I was having a good dream!"

"Blasted fool that vermin is! I knew I couldn't trust 'em!"

"Shut up fool!"

Jaden bounded up onto the table despite the maids' protests. Teacups and steaming pots were already set out. He did his best to avoid them.

"Gather around! Quick - listen to me!"

The Great Hall quickly filled with beasts for want of reasons. Anger glared in some of the beasts' eyes - obviously a justified moment to not pacify anger. He is, in fact, a vermin. But others were curious - most of them the Elders and the older types, though some of the older beasts had indignant scowls marred on their features.

"Listen to me quickly. The King is about to commence an attack on Redwall! He is coming!"

One beast challenged Jaden. He was quickly put down, though.

"Shat up! Hasn't this vermin givin' us sound advice afore?"

Murmers of agreement rang up. He had indeed provided information in reguards to vermin positions and the Hellsman fighting tactics. Jaden continued.

"The King had learned of me visiting this place. He has forced me to become a spy for his causes... he has informed me that the King's armies will come in _two weeks_ time!"

Talking, objections, and murmering chimed in rather immedietly. More people called for silence, but this time the objectors shouted back.

"Stupid idgit! I knews ye was a spys afore ye even stepped foot in Mossflower!"

"Aye, can't trust the lot of ye."

"Shattup ye sluggards! Let this man finish!"

"How about ye shut it up yerself, ye vermin softy! Ye little friend 'ere must've stained yer mind. Aye ye shouldn't be called Elder at all."

"An' ye shouldn't be called a Redwaller cuz ye ain't actin' like it either! Every man an' women 'as a say in their world, an' their own opinion-"

"Shut it old man, afores ye vermin tod sends us all to 'ellgates. Let's kill 'em afores 'e c'n get to the King with 'is spyin' knowledge!"

"Hag! 'E's been to the King already! Why else 's he left all those times in the middle 'o th' night?"

More shouting. Jaden quivered with anger at the Mossflowers' childish demeanors and yelled over the commotion at the top of his lungs.

"SILENCE!"

The ferocious blast ceased all bickering. All eyes and heads turned to Jaden - such a loud noise from a quiet, singular vermin.. He was even surprised at what came out of his mouth - in all his days visiting the Abbey he had never raised his voice above the tone of a normal conversation - not even to yell across the Abbey pond to the Abbot. But he continued.

"...Listen to me! The King _is_ coming in _two weeks_! And if I know the King correctly, he may possibly cut it down to one week, even less, depending on how much of his forces are already marching."

Already marching. The words seemed to make the silent room more quiet.

"And listen to me again! - Has not all of my words come true? All of my _spying_ for the Abbey? All of the informaton I relayed through the Abbot? Has not every work of my hands been fruitful and beneficial? ...Thomas, the gardener. Where are you? -Ahh, there you re. Isn't it true that I hoed the entire gardens when you were sick? And planted the seeds the next day?"

A nod from Thomas, close and to the left. "And Elder Emwich of the Eastern Mossflower Province. When that vein of Hellsman decided to attack your northern town one day, did not I inform you what exactly they were going to do and when? And did those Hellsman do as I pedicted and you defended that part of Mossflower dilligently?"

Another nod, back among the crowd of beasts to the right.

Some eyes burned with curiosity still, but some still determined.

"Shame on you all! Shame on you... for being so absent minded and unkind! The Elder is right - " One thing he could hear over the commotion, though probably due to the fact that the Elder was nearest to the table. "You all shouldn't be called Redwallers. Redwallers are accepting, listening, patient, and understanding. But that doesn't matter anymore." He was about to admit that he wasn't fit to be a Redwaller either, the images of the mice flashing through his mind. But for once he pressed on past those thoughts and feelings. "War is at hand, and the King is coming. The King himself declared to me that he is coming. Whenever he himself said something, it was done and it happened. You all out of all people on this earth know this full well!

Now listen closely to what I have to say - Mossflower is not dead. You can conquor this enemy again, and once and for all!"

Dark murmers. Side-glances. A few glared up at Jaden. Jaden sighed and spread his arms out. "I know... that there are a few of you that have some doubts, but I believe you can do this! If you can do it once-"

The scowling old squirrel maid, who had shouted at the Elder, chimed in with many gestures. "Redwall is doomed! I can see it now - red bricks spilled, blood slipt on the tiled floors of the Abbey, the glass shattered and timbers shattering over our heads! We all are doomed!"

Most of the dibbuns were gathered among the dibbun dormatory keepers in a pocket. They started to whimper and whine. The keepers shouted at the squirrel, as did several others, for upsetting the beasts.

But there were still doubts. A few continued to look indignant at the fox standing on their Great Hall table. Jaden licked his lips. "Redwall is not doomed! You still have a fighting chance! Your men - there are enough in Mossflower? Yes? ...Send runners and tell the cities and villages, and to Sala, to gather fighting forces and weapons!"

But no one moved. Something had gone wrong, Jaden felt as a twinge in his gut. Mebbe he was too forceful.

"Shut yer trap ye blaggart."

Murmering melted into many beast arguing and debating. Many voices.

"I say let's kill 'im!"

Some yelled in agreement. A few objected pointedly.

"It's all his fault!" Yelled the squirrel maid, the one who had originally been a culprit. "It's his fault fer the King comin'! 'E's a spy I tells ye all - a dirty little, mother killing, child stealing, son of a worthless fletcher!"

Eyes and faces turned harsh. Yelling. Shouting at him. The twinge in his gut grew deeper with the realization of whatever hopes he had came to an abrupt end. He paranoidly glanced around for any exits - the closest was through the low stained glass window almost directly behind him. But the window was several armsbreadths from the end of the table - over the tops of angry beast's heads, who happened to be grappling for Jaden's footpaws...

Jaden whipped around. He caught a glance at the tapestry of Martin the Warrior. The mouse's eyes seemed to look down pitingly on the situation - Jaden couldn't tell if they were looking at him or the Redwallers. But he didn't care. Not anymore.

_Well... I tried. Now its your turn to deal with them._

The eyes remained complacent. Jaden huffed, and lept forward for the window, bracing his arms across his face.

Some_thing_ grabbed on his footpaw, which so conveniently made his perfectly straight shot for the window off balance. And lost his boot in the process. His elbow snagged onto the windowsill, painfully, and he pummled through the window at an offcenter. His landing was very unexpected and farther than he had guessed. He tumbled once, twice, thrice, and lay on his back.

With half the wind knocked out of him, he stumbled up among the colorful broken shards, and took running to the gatehouse. His actions caught up with his mind and he remembered why he was going to the gatehouse. His gear. But trying the door, it was locked - he jiggled the handle, taking a quick glance - then a double glance to see half of the Redwallers outside barreling towards him. Kitchen knives, forks, and whatever smaller weapons at hand that were not deposited by the gates - flashed in the morning light, a sure sign of the fate he would face.

The Gates. He remembered that some beast took his pack off the night before. He then recalled seeing the Abbot out of the corner of his eye doing so... He hop-skipped a turn, running to the rampart stairs, beating a few thrown knives. One landed in his boot though. He ripped it off his foot and chucked it at the nearest Abbeydweller or Mossflower villager who started to scramble up the stairs. It slapped the poor mouse in the face, and he tumbled back on the other Redwallers behind him.

_Run better on feet anyway..._

Jaden then turned, and risking large splinters, made his way carefully but quickly down the crossbeam running across the leftmost gate. He grappled the shiny new bolts as well as he could, though small, and he was about to make it to the ground when a knife whizzed past. It struck his shoulder ... hit it at an odd angle, reflecting off into the weeds along the edge of the wall- unskilled _Redwallers! - _but made a good cut. He ignored the wound for now and searched for his belongings.

_There!_ It was set aside from the other beasts' weapons and packs and such - things not allowed in the Abbey. He scrambled over to it and went to pick it up but about tumbled over when he tried swinging it over his shoulder. It felt very heavy - many pounds heavier. Jaden figured that the landing must've done something to him - knocked more wind out than he realized, probably.

He slipped on the rest of his things - quiver, but holding his bow in hand, and leaving his daggers behind. He remembered he forgot to take off some, but he did have that cross-belt going across his chest...

_No time, though_ - he scrambled past the path and dissapeared into the grasslands. He knew this area - he had scrounged about through it dozens of times before, looking over at the Abbey through the protection of the grasses and few bushes, and had often retreated back in the grasslands up to the feet of the mountains seperating the Mossflower from the Western Shores. But he wasn't going to the mountains. He knew where to go immedietly - _that_ bush over there... shaped like an earless hare. That brought a grin to his face, but it was wiped off instantly - he had to get to the porttown.

Steal a boat. Hah - besides failing to pursuade the Redwallers - it remaining as a bitter, empty feeling in his gut - he had gone as far to throw a shoe. Not that any dibbun or older, crabby folk has done that before. But the boat stealing will do him in for good. Not that Mossflower will be _burning_ by the time they figure out what he stole.

He changed directions and started along a narrow path running through the grasslands. From the position of the sun and memory, it traveled north-east to south-west, ending up at the Great Southern Stream.

Wait - don't have to go that far. The sister stream. A small otter community rests in the bank of the stream just past the mountains - steal a boat from there. Hopefully... a lot of the otters are feasting at Redwall.

_- hunting. Me down. ...Yes._

Jaden hesitated a moment. The trail he was taking... intersects the sister stream. Wasn't sure for a moment. Now he definitely was sure.

Hoarse cries and yelling bounded from beyond the grasses. He glanced back once, and feeling his load shift, looked back and shifted his weight over to slide the pack back on his shoulder.

Jaden felt his senses were on edge. Every sound of the forest his ears and eyes took in - bootless feet plodding their path with a will of their own. He turned his head and twitched his ear at such an angle he did not need to turn his whole head. Don't want to risk dropping the pack. From the sounds he heard back a few dozen footsteps or so, they were near.

A stray root almost seemed to come out of the ground, and trip him - he didn't catch it out of his periphrial as he glanced around, senses on edge, adreneline coursing through his veins. It was almost as if the root had acted in correlation with the Redwallers. _Thank-you!_

He tumbled rather gently to the ground thanks to the grasses on the sides of the trail. But other things enveloped his mind besides that mere comfort - the Redwallers. As he rolled onto his stomach - stopped rolling, thank Hellgates - he quikcly felt enclosed by the grasslands. He could neither see nor smell as the pungeant odors of the earth wafted up into his sensitive nostrils. He almost gagged, but quickly caught his breath. The Abbot dwellers were perhaps stupidly inclined, but they could at least hear.

-Hear. Jaden froze his form, and controlled his breathing. He closed his eyes and ran through his controlled breathing excercizes he learned from those musky-looking snipers he learned most of his skills froms - yet, he had to admit, skilled. He opened his eyes and was met again with the numerous grasses, which, coupled with the very heavy sack, wasn't too comfortable. Felt claustrophobic. But that was the least of his concerns at the moment - he had to fight to control his breathing as senses were deprived of input. In all his wanderings and horde life he was always equiped and ready with his senses _en garde_ - but now he couldn't even _see_. _Seeing_... was all about being a sniper. See is to a sniper as-

Yelling. Redwallers approaching.

- _being clumsy, stupid, idiotic, _racist _is to Redwallers. _

He kept himself in check as the noises approached. The voices became more distinct, the mixed noise of people unwinding into its bare elements: those scrawny excuse-for-weapons they scrounged up, and _dibbuns!_ Jaden grunted, realizing just how _stupid_ they were. ...Threaten the lives of _children_.

But what does it matter? Jaden sighed. _They're all going to die any_-

"Quick! This way, Mossflower! I know this... fiend... when I see his trail!"

The voice of the Abbot. _Feind? _

Trail!

- _But I didn't make a trail. I just tumbled into _grasses.Jaden bit his lip. Surely they would see the large mess of disturbed grasses. He was a good few steps off the trail, but it wasn't enough for some smart-mouthed beast to spot large gaping patches in the grass.

The voices became loudly suddenly - and just as quickly, faded away. He craned his neck and eyes to peer down and over at where he had tumbled from. -Nothing. He waited a few moments before stealing another uncomfortable look towards the path. The only sound made was the light rustling of the grasses from the carresing wind. He sighed and made to get up, but quickly stopped. Two knarly old footpaws, wrapped with sandals just as old, poked out from –


	5. Have Holt, Will Travel

...That dark red robe. Jaden recognized it instantly as the Abbot's own robe. The Abbot's voice met him as two surprisingly strong, but shaky paws offered him help.

"Come up, my friend. Quickly now - make haste!"

Jaden turned over on his side and accepted the help. He propped his leg upright and lifted himself on his feet with the help of the grunting Abbot.

"Jaden, before you leave I must give you something. I-"

Jaden peered over towards the new, blazed trail in the grasses. He then turned to the Abbot and took in a breath. "Abbot Kereseth! Mossflower - it's all going to-"

The abbot placed a paw on his arm. "Yes, I know my friend. Mossflower's time is neigh. I knew this would be coming even long before you arrived."

Jaden was taken back at the Abbot's slightly bitter tone. "What do you mean?"

He shook his head. "There's no time to explain, Jaden. You must be leaving. - And before you do I must give you something." The Abbot turned and gestured to two things at his side - Jaden hadn't noticed that the Abbot had them. It was a rather oblong object wrapped in cloth, and a second also wrapped in cloth. The second was tubular in shape and also wrapped in the same color dark cloth. Both were carried in a sack the Abbot had dropped on the ground. The Abbot gave the sack to Jaden and nodded to him. Jaden took it reluctantly. "These here are the heart and soul of Mossflower. History... lies in your paws."

Jaden's eyes flashed with doubt. His brows furrowed deeply. "The Sword and the tapestry." Jaden sighed, looking off. "These are useless to me. They'll just be dead weight to me. But you! Abbot Kereseth, you can come with me! We can-"

"Jaden. You must realize... that you carry the future of Mossflower on your bodice. The _future_ Jaden-"

Jaden cut the Abbot off short. "Kereseth, this is _not the time!_ Hellgates! - we barely have any time before those imbasils come back looking for you. _And_ me!" He reached out to grab the Abbot's wrist. "You're coming with me."

"They don't know I'm out here... I snuck out." The Abbot sighed and looked to the ground for a moment. "My time is of neigh, Jaden, as is the land of Mossflower. I've lived far too many years... Jaden. Far too many. My time is near, Jaden, I feel it in my old, creaky bones... You, though, have the training and diligence and _will_ to carry on. Jaden - you are the key to Mossflower."

Jaden growled. Furious. His grip tightened on the Abbot's wrist. "Abbot Kereseth, don't you _dare_ say that! Don't you _ever_ say that! You are-" He grimaced his teeth and snapped, "I ain't no goodbeast... _messenger_ or _savior_ or whatever in this forsaken _earth_ you think I am!"

"Oh but you are! You have the future of Mossflower in your hands. The strength, the honor, the loyalty. Jaden, you _will_ suceed, Jaden, I know you can!"

Jaden wretched himself away from the Abbot. His bright emerald eyes were blazing with intensity. He gestured, and yelled with a ferocity deemed to his vermin species. "If I can't turn the minds of those blaggerts around, then how in this lifetime do you expect me to just... _survive_ this night? Everyone is going to die! You yourself just... whatever, said it! But if you want to die with them, and rot in your grave knowing that-"

"Oh but Jaden, you proved to yourself that you have the _power_, the _will_ to go forward! Did you not stand up to... Mossflower? Those _woodlanders_ who hate you equally as you do their ideals and motives and prejudice? But they were not the enemy, oh no Jaden. The enemy there was not them this time."

Tears coursed down Jaden's black features. His expression was a twisted caracature of many emotions. "...Abbot! I-"

"Did you not _defeat your enemy _and_ conquor _the challenge _you _set before yourself For _once_ you did and you succeeded! ...And because of this... You no longer need me. I believe I have taught you all I can about life right there. The rest is up to experience, really... Beasts just consider me wise and learned - well most - because I just _know_, and that's simply because I've seen far more many seasons pass by than many here. My home is here - it has always been. Your home, though is not - you are of a wandering horde, a wandering family...

"...You have no home. Am I not right?"

Jaden nodded. He wiped away tears. - Very perplexed as to why this was happened to his face. _Vermin_ never cried. Not even the strong _woodlanders_ did. Suck it up, or die. Because, as any hunter knew, emotions clogged perception. "All my life... But-"

"But you embody the spirit of Redwall and Mossflower. _This _is where I have failed as the Abbot of Redwall, as the top... _man_ to oversee Mossflower and not only the physical land but the lives of these people! And I have failed this task that _I_ accepted, a plate that I accepted full well, knowing just how fruitless the hearts and minds of these people were becoming. But now my task is complete. You, Jaden, are my fullfillment... Now I can die in peace. ... I swore to myself one night I remember, sitting alone on a dark many many seasons ago, cold winter night in the Gatehouse when Pheonix was trudging off in the Kitchens: that if I cannot turn all of these woodlander fools, then I vow to instill teaching into one vermin...

"Now you must continue on, my friend."

The Abbot's voice trailed off. He looked away, also having tears course from his narrow eyelids. Jaden stood there, not knowing what to do. He looked away - couldn't help it, couldn't help see the Abbot in this condition. The Abbot was the closest to a father and a friend he had ever known. And here he was, the _fulfillment_ of the Abbot. Jaden had always felt guilty about not knowing how to thank the Abbot, not knowing how to _pay back_ his kindly services and just being there for him. His horde life must have drilled that culturative instinct into him - you trade goods, and if you didn't, you get killed. Because that would be then _stealing_.

_How true that is to this much more real life! _ Jaden thought, looking away again. He reached out to merely touch the Abbot's arm, but pulled back. He looked down at the sack of the Sword of Martin and the tapestry. The strings of the bag felt tight and rigid in his palm. _I have felt guilty for stealing the Abbot's life away... hours where he could spend it somewhere else. Fishing... tending dibbuns... Ahh, those many moonless nights where Redwallers would complain to him about him not spending enough time with _his_ people, them, in their narrow-minded views, thinking that an Abbot was all they need to solve all their problems. Interracial and not._..

Jaden sighed. _How narrow minded I was too - Now he may rest in peace._

But - Jaden still felt compelled. Some inkling of a guilt tugged at his self. "Kereseth. I... I just. I don't know how to thank you for..."

The Abbot brought the taller fox closer and embraced him. Jaden did not wretch back as before - this was the least he could do, he felt, for the Abbot. The old Abbot. "My friend, Jaden, my son. ... Oh how you do not even grasp how much of a thanks your _existance_. If only there were more vermin to bring to some... peace... as yourself! That has been my true dream, but these Redwallers do not understand it. I-"

The figure of a squirrel suddenly bound out from behind a stump nearby. He held up a dirk - small, but deadly sharp looking. "- Are an old, traitoring _fool!"_

The squirrel - that face, that tone of voice, the limping form he immedietly recognized as the one he had met on the road. But the voice had changed some. It was as if the squirrel had been basked over hot coals for seasons - angry and raspy, full of hatred and - from the limp - pain. The dirk was held in a striking position and he _well_ sure looked ready to strike as fast as his crippled frame could carry him. He suddenly kicked up pace, though, and leaped forward with the blade outstretched...

The Abbot muttered the words under his breath: "Algornian..."

Algornian. The name quickly brought memory back to Jaden's stressed mind - a radical revolutionary of Mossflower and Redwall. Tried to get the Abbey dwellers to pick up weapons and fight before the Hellsman came. He was a traitor to his own kind just as much as he, Jaden, was - except, Jaden didn't go off killing his own kind for the opposite of consideration for other species.

- The Mossflowers knew the Abbot's tendencies! But Jaden didn't have time to react...

This happened in a quick matter of seconds. The stump was closer than Jaden had unconsciously suspected. Before he knew it, he was on the ground with his belongings sprawled on the grass. He looked up to see the squirrel standing over the fallen form of the Abbot - blood dripping from the dirk. Jaden propped himself up on his elbows, and looked over to see the throat of the Abbot deeply slitted.

A surmounting rage overtook the tod in expressive ferocity. As if his body had taken a mind of its own, he leapt up onto his feet, quickly withdrew a hidden, poisoned dagger he kept hidden in a sheath on the inside of his thigh - in case of emergencies, the only weapon he had taken into the Abbey - and threw the dagger as hard as his vermin frame could bear at the cursed squirrel. The narrow dagger penetrated deep into the belly of the squirrel, who promptly fell to the ground in surprise.

"_You _are the fool!"

Jaden leapt over and slammed his footpaw down on the wrist of the squirrel holding the dirk. It let go instantly. Jaden moved his arm over his wrist and the other paw onto the neck of the beast. He clamped down tight.

"Nightshade, wolfsbane, mushroom - pick your poison, its all in your blood now, you _killer _of my Abbot!"

The squirrel's expression suddenly went vivid in a shock of horror and surprise. Jaden grimaced in response to the expression, and promptly picked up and tossed the squirrel by the neck and arm. It tumbled, and struggled to get up but fell short. The squirrel's eyes glazed over as he opened his mouth to scream, but nothing came out - the squirrel convulsed violently several times, and rolled over, limp.

Jaden growled and yelled at the top of his lungs. After he had commited the air residing in his lungs, he looked over the Abbot, and to his belongings. He took the sword and strapped it across his back, tucking the tapestry into the strap. He looked over at his scattered bows and arrows, and decided to leave them there, passing them over for his bag of belongings, carry the after effects of shock and adreneline. It was placed over the sword and the tapestry and he trudged off into the mid-morning day. He didn't even process what happened until he turned away and started walking swiftly.

_The Abbot is dead_. Those four words tolled in his head like the brassy bell of the Abbey. _The Abbot is dead... History and years gone._ _Mossflower..._

_- But what did he mean by those words? _The tod stopped abruptly and took a slow, painful look back. Both the squirrel and the Abbot lay where they had fallen, Abbot belly up, the squirrel back up in a twisted demeanor.Memory flashed into him, and what more, a quick recollection of his condescending past his normal cynical attitude. It filled him with a heavy bitterness, causing him to turn swiftly and trudge on.

_What a stupid fool I am! _I _am the fool! A fool for even - _

The Abbot's words: "..._existance_." Existing. A fool for even existing. He felt a quick surge of guilt, in the mix of his heart-wrenching bitterness, for even thinking half that sentence. _How dare I think such things... such a _vermin_ I am in leu of death_.

- _Death. That is what will come over this land, once for all. Hah - I guess I won't have to deal with the Abbey dwellers anymore. _

The Abbot's kindly words echoed in his mind again: "You have the future of Mossflower in your hands." He rememberd that he had been holding the Sword and the tapestry when the Abbot said that. _The future in my hands_. His mind quieted for a bit as he toyed with that phrase. _The future for that Sword is dirt. The wood on the handle is all rotten off, and the red pommel went missing seasons ago, and it hasn't been oiled in forever - less unsheathed in a century. In all that heat and weather this climate tends to have, I bet its rusty, and useless. Besides - even if it could be used it is a bit big for my liking._ He recalled times when he tried out swords before, but found them too clumsy and bulky. He always liked the thin, light feel of an arrow shaft in his hand, and the taught edge of the bow in the other. _And the tapestry. That's just a memory. Of another... dead beast._

_-Erg. Did I really say all that and mean it? At Redwall... That isn't me. My place is to be quiet and keep my ideals and concepts to myself. If I didn't, then I would just add to the irritating, obnoxious noise those Redwallers - had placed - out._

Jaden instantly was overcome with suspicion. He recalled the tone behind the words of the Abbot throughout the time. The Abbot was hiding something from him, he felt - no, _it wasn't the tapestry or the sword_. The Abbot already told him that. ...Jaden always knew when the Abbot was hiding something of _value _or importance, especially when in conversations like that. Except for the fact that Jaden had never gotten emotional like that. Everyone around him always toughened it up. In a culture where personal fears and dreams were shunned and pushed under, emotions were only valued if you could get some nice-looking vixen to marry you or you kill more than your horde "friend". Jaden frowned at the thought to let his guard down - but his complexion softened. _Just this time. For the Abbot._

_But this Sword... why would the Abbot give it to me? _"You carry the future on your body." _Well - now I am. If you call rust and a crappy tapestry future. _He quickly shoved away the thought on verge of guilt.

_What am I doing? Why am I thinking this? _He sighed. _Those _were_ the _last_ words of the Abbot. _

Jaden had shifted off the trail he was following. If and when Mossflower comes to a dead end, one beast may suggest to comb south and west instead of going north north-west. Couldn't take the risk. Those beasts have always been accustomed to traveling the way most normal, everyday beasts do - by common road. Common road meant you knew where you going, and how long it was going to take. Jaden took this to mind figuratively, for fact that he wasn't walking on it. He did indeed not know what he would do after he found a boat. _Where_... he could find a boat, quickly. If he traveled on foot it would take a day or two to get to it. If he could remember where the nearest otter holt or trading post was, he could certainly snag a boat.

The grasslands faded abruptly on the shoreline of the sister stream to the Great South Stream. _Bohladaira_- Jaden recalled, in the ancient language of the black foxes. His parents were of an extinct tribe that once flourished in the Northlands. Foxes of the Night they were called. But that was the past. Jaden felt no correlation to it, and thus could care less for it. But those words his mother had taught him stuck with him - Bohladaira, _Mother of the West, Providor of the Western Mountains. _Bolhadaira ran from the Big Island Lake. Big Island was south and east of the mountains, above sea level, once called _Bohladaahg_, _Father of the West. _Its name had faded with time, as his Mother couldn't even recall the Fox name for it when he asked about _that_ lake. His mother showed him the names for everything else - the land including the Abbey it once inhabited, _Merebeau Sau Fav'Alious - _Maker of the Keys. And the Northlands? _Nornigheles. _Land of the Foxes of the Night of the Northlands, to be precise. Jaden recalled each one very quickly as his mother instilled these into her son well. He spent every day learning new history - his mother had several black-labeled books, _books_ of history. History was considered futile in the regime of the Northern Hellsman, as the King's eyes were always set on the future. To pause one moment to look back? That would be like a young man looking away for a moment from the heat of battle, to be met with lance to his death. That's how the King equated it, and he did it well.

Jaden had to agree with the King - the past was, well, past. Those names his mother taught him meant nothing to him, those oral legends he memorized - the stories, poems, ballads; songs of death, sadness, war, marriage, celebration, elation... And the meanings and legends behind each of those names on the maps that his mother taught him, and the names of the various warriors he learned about as a child - all was past. Each meaning the words had meant nothing to him, because, simply, this _Encarheles _he knew would be up in flames. That is, world. Not to mention he never had use for it except in reminiscing.

Silly pasttimes.

The Bohladaira, correctly named since it generally had many names instead of one well-known accepted name, was rather smaller than Jaden remembered. A _lot _more smaller - it was far too shallow for a large boat - not that Jaden alone could pilot something larger than a small yacht. His desire for the sea has been large, yes, but his skills are lacking. But he does know the basics - a few knots his once tent-mate rat-pirate Halbag taught him, and the names of the sides of the boat. Halbag even took him out on the seas a few times - it became a normal occourance until he was shot dead by a woodlander's arrow. His boat was chopped up and used for fire. No grave.

Jaden quickly remembered exactly where he was - the more he walked along the banks of the clear Bohladaira, the more he remembered. The otter tribe trading post of _Potsly_. Mossflower was in fact populated enough for trading posts, but still had its pockets of population and loners. Those who lived out in the woods were far and few between, but very self-sustaining. Those who lived in population thrived on community, assisting each other - whether they viewed it that way or not - in living. There were things he admired about both.

"Oi! S'squirrel aye see down thar? Maties - wot's it?"

The tone of the voice conveyed who it was: Captain Gregshaw Mudclaw of the _Potsly Mudclaw_. Jaden fought off the urge to simply retreat - he had, indeed, become fast friends with the friendly Gregshaw, and on many occasions was welcomed into the otter holt when left abandoned, which happened often, by those incandescent types in Mossflower.

A second voice. "Oi! S'not a squirrel, ye blight - that's Jaden!"

Jaden grunted. He was baited. He couldn't leave now. He offered an impatient wave, but quickly held himself in check. Less he make the crew and captain suspicious for his odd manner, and have to explain everything. Which he had in mind to do. Besides the Abbot, they were the only peoples he trusted. Outside of knowing _what_ other Mossflowers would do and how they would act.

"Ahoy there! Is that the sound of the boat-scrubbing, riverdog pirating, hotroot slurping captain and crew of the _Potsly_?"

A few hoots and cajoling greeeted Jaden as he rounded the bend of the small river. Grasses had obstructed his view to the giant oak tree surmounting the holt and the pier, but now it all came into view. A large pier, dashed with otters of different types, Jaden reasoned from the way they walked and mingled, jutted from the earthy hill the large oak grew out of. The entrance to the holt itself was in the hill as well. The pier opened up from the entrance.

A pug-faced sea otter looked up from his fishing line and grinned. "Ahoy! S'me messmate Jaden, laddies! Did ye bring a few vixens fer us ta meet, ye lady-lover you?"

Jaden offered a chuckle; dry, thought, and forced. The Captain emerged from the holt with his burly arms crossed. The beast was indeed a _sea_ otter - tall, muscular, with a stone-hardened face weathered from seasons on the open sea. He wore the same exact vest, pants, and boots Jaden remembered him in.

"Jaden, me lovvie, how ye been? I'ven't heard from yeself in ages! Where ye been?"

Jaden cleared his throat to help mask his unease. He hopped up onto the pier from the bank as best as he could with his load, forcing a smile. There was some edge in the Captain's voice that was very abnormal. "I've been out and about, here and there. Doing my best to avert the gaze of the King's eyes." And he added after a quick second, "At least for a little while."

The sea otter smiled. His wise eyes observed the black tod. "So's said, matey. A group 'o yellin' Redwallers an' Mossflowerians came up 'o these parts a little while ago fer ye preceedin' entry, don't y'know. An' the funny thing is they ne'r come down here! Too busy with their idle games and parties…" The Captain gestured for Jaden as he turned to go inside the holt. "Come with me laddie. We've got some catchin' up ta do!"

Jaden looked at the other otters suspiciously. Some greeted him, slapped his shoulder - about knocked him into the clear waters of the dock as he stood there - but none betrayed the fine choice of words the captain had, and also in combination with, his whole demeanor. Jaden followed the otter quickly inside.

The otter holt was as he remembered as well: rather on the small side, but cozy. The smell of soups and other foodstuffs in different stages of preparation wafted in from the kitchens, and a few voices stopped momentarily as he passed different rooms. The entrance entered into a circular intersection of a few rooms and hallways. Gregshaw gestured, and walked down one. Jaden followed once again.


	6. Bagged

Jaden observed the back of Gregshaw's head, set on a short, stout neck. He saw the tension in the Captain's jaw as he turned his head, glancing at a secondary hallway. It all added to Jaden's nervousness.

The captain finally stopped at the end of the Hallway at a door with a faded inscription: "Captain's Quarters." The captain unlocked the door with a skeleton key and opened it. "C'mon in an' make yerself at home, matey." Jaden did as told, and the Captain followed in and closed the door after peering down the hall.

Once the door was closed he spoke. He assumed his natural manner of leaning up against the door with arms crossed. "Matey, let me be frank with ye. Firs', though, 'ave a seat. An' ye want some whiskey?"

_Whiskey_. The Captain never touched the stuff unless he had something big on his mind. Such as, when the holt was in a war with some pocket of Hellsman resistance. Jaden carefully slipped off his heavy pack, but kept the sword and tapestry on - still clothed. Uncomfortable, yes, but worth the pain to keep masked. "Um, no thank-you."

"Aight. Hope ye don't mind then." He opened up a cabinet set into the earthen wall. He placed the glass rather carelessly down on the small table resting underneath it. The liquor botte top was popped off, and tossed into the cabinet. He closed the cabinet and poured himself some of the brown-colored drink. A large drag of the stuff was taken, and he poured himself some more.

"Arg, tha's the stuff! Strong year, strong drink…" He twisted the glass of whiskey in paw a few times, looking at it curiously, before setting it down. He resumed crossing his arms.

"Aight matey, let me be frank 'ere. Times wastin'.

"An hour ago a group of ragtag Redwallers came 'ere, all yellin', with their sad, rusty weapons 'n kitchen knives 'n big forks they roused up in there Redwall. Came 'ere lookin' for a big, black fox, name's Jaden, bein' on the run from them fer being a spy or somethin'. I figured ye was happenin' to th' same wonderful welcomin' them Redwallers gives us low life travelin' types - y'know, 'Don't make a mess o'er this place, afores ye get kicked out!' an' stuff. But anyway's, matey - what's goin' on 'ere? I knew ye _was_ workin' fer th' king. Care explain what this spy business 's all about?

"An' matey, what ye says 'ere stays here." He uncrossed his arms for a moment to pound his chest once with a big-knuckled paw. "On me life, matey's - when I's heard ye were double-crossin' them, me reaction was obvious. The Jaden I know's would ne'r do such a thing! H'wouldn't go as far as t… _spy_ on some dibbun sneakin' a big o' grub from th' Abbey kitchens!

"So for the sake of me peace-o-mind an' crew - ye know, I c'n only cast away their doubt wit' assurin' wit' me good fortune an' wisdom, har, if I's got any left in me - _please_ do, laddie tell me wot's up."

Jaden shuffled in his chair restlessly. He kept a tight grip on the straps of his sack. "Um, well, see here… The King of the Northlands - the leader of the Northern Hellsman - has put a time table on me." He related to the Captain what had happened over the past two days and the reaction of the Redwallers. All the while the Captain did not say anything. The most he did was nod every once and a while, and even said "I see."

"-And that's how I got here. I knew there was some trading post… But between lack of sleep, being beat up, and my nerves racketed by those Redwallers, I couldn't remember for the life of me."

Captain Gregshaw nodded again and reached over for his glass of whiskey. "Well matey, see here: me crew has been suspicious of ye, jus' only that ye are a _different _type. Aye, different. But I'ves had to use me authority t'quiet down some _very_ suspicious ones - y'know, Orthin, Rockdabber, Solstice. Those ones who'r veeerry black n' white bouts eveythin'… even how I tie m'bootstraps over these feet o' mine. Been sayin' some things o'r the past few months that've threatened the integrity o' me crew. Things that've confirmed what ye've said matey."

The Captain threw back the rest of the whiskey. Jaden couldn't wait, so he asked, "So what do ye plan to do?"

The glass was set down. "Tell the crew wot's the matter. No use hidin' it from them - they have every right t'know, as one friend t'th'othah. Cuz, how's messmates supposed t'make ship together when they's got some pickin's wit' each other?"

Jaden frowned. "What do you mean?"

The Captain grinned widely. "Ye know how ye've been wantin' t'set sail o'er the seas matey? Well… I'm supposin' now's the best time!"

Jaden stood up from his seat. His brows furrored in doubt. "So then, ye just trust me on my word? I half expected ye to just smack me across the face or something."

"I know a good beast when I comes across 'im, Jaden. I bet that ye was bein' horrible at a dibbun, laddie, cuz ye are horrible at lyin'!" He offered a chuckle and a pat on Jaden's shoulder. "Nah, not only that, but I've been getting' reports, laddie… I've used to have connections with them Sala hares up until a month ago. They've just tuckered up around their mountain and locked the door tight for no reason whatsoever. An' I had me good runner Sassifrass hop on o'r t'those long-ears, an' they sent 'im on 'is way with a curt brush o'r their words. I don't know wot's got in to them - sad t' say this, but they're jus' diggin' their own graves in that mountain, an' I could care less now. Cuz I got me own crew to worry's 'bout."

Jaden began to lift the sack but the Captain objected. "Keep it 'ere. We'll pack it aboard me ship in a few hours before we all's be leavin'. Been promisin' me crew a great time o'r the seas - some adventure jus' fer the heck'o'vit! Been tellin' them we're goin' t'sail to the Cellikose Islands o'r yonder horizon in th'western seas fer a vacation… _Fancy _land that is! Many beasts o' me crew 'ave ne'r been thar. But I's ne'r tellin' them it be permanent. First though, we're gonna set sail downriver fer the port town near th' mouth o' th' Great South Stream an' board one o' me larger sea-goin' vessils. That small dingy of a boat ain't much use o' the high seas!"

Jaden leaned the sack up against the chair and sighed. "Gregshaw, what if the King's armies are already advancing down the western shore? I remember some... rumor about it, but I never believed it myself. That would allow those in Mossflower to escape. If they're already down over there, then we may not have a chance to get a boat. That's somethin' we gotta take into fact."

"Aye, an' if they be doin' that, they're most likely be goin' in a _pincher_ movement. Send forces down th' west, an' a seperate one on th' flatlands borderin' the woods in th' east, an' close in. Those who'r gonna run south, like ye said, would be eaten up by those lizzies -gosh I hate those scaley types - but besides, what else are we gonna do?"

Jaden frowned. "The Redwallers wouldn't believe ye, right?"

"No. They dislike us river_dogs_. Ne'r liked us. Though we've been shippin' _their_ supplies up an' down river, an' helped those fools out a lot with escapin' the clutches of Hellsman - their fate is deserved. Don't ye say?"

"Well, I wouldn't go as far to say that."

The Captain grinned . "Why not matey? They be killing beasts, an'-"

"They kill woodlanders."

"Now, them hoodlums must kills some vermin though, aye?"

"The Hellsman are very religious in their horde dogma."

"Mmmm, how so? Why'd I not hear about this afore?"

Jaden looked to the ground for a moment. He hoped it didn't turn into another Abbot. And another friend _die_ because of one of his actions.

­-_ Because if I wouldn't have told the Redwallers, they wouldn't have chased me out... And the Abbot wouldn't have gone out. And gotten slain._

_All because of me._

He sighed coldly. "I was afraid of what ye would think."

The otter laughed. It felt forced. "Ye think I'm afraid? I gotta deal with a dozen and more messmates, an' women, an' children. I'm their leader. Ye think I haven't heard it all?"

The laugh dug under Jaden's skin. He knew that the otter friend was trying to lighten the situation, which made it worse - Jaden snapped rather bitterly: "Well, they didn't _kill _the _Abbot_, did they?"

That brought a silence over the otter. His smile faded with his laugh. It sort of trailed off. "Woah now!" He tilted his head downward a bit and stared at Jaden in suspicion. "Wot - Wot's this ye be sayin'?"

"I was saying goodbye to the Abbot. Figure it would be the last time I would see him, because, you know, Mossflower _is _going." Jaden paused to swallow. He continued, pronouncing each word perfectly with perfunctoriness. "Then some _squirrel_ by the name of Algornian came out of nowhere, and slashed his throat. - The fools dead, now. I chucked a dagger at him and he died. Poisoned. I suppose my trainings saved me from doing worse than that to the creature. Ah, oh well..."

Captain Gregshaw eyed Jaden for a moment. He examined Jaden's expression. The dark turn in tone had silenced the normal wisely otter, and had thrown himself into perplexion. He quickly regained countenance and opened his mouth: "My stars matey, 'tis a sad thing indeed."

Jaden replied in the affirmitave quickly. "Yes."

"My 'opes an' sympathies, laddie. Ye knew the abbot more an' 'alf of Mossflower could wish of - I c'n tell from the way ye'd talked about 'im in yore past visits."

"Aye."

"An'," the Captain chimed, looking to the ground. "I would send me crew an' I t' visit 'is grave an' lay flowers on it-"

"I _didn't_ get to bury him."

The words were very pointed. The Captain sniffed loudly, and said, "Oi matey! M'sorry! Arg, me not usin' me head thar... Well matey, then, I would send me an me crew t' give 'im a proper burial, but, laddie.." His voice trailed off and he gestured with a paw. "The sun doesn't stop movin', an' the Hellsman don't stop marchin'. But laddie, I would do it meself, I swear on the furs O' me head!"

Jaden's gaze had shifted to the ground and he nodded. He forced himself to meet the otter's gaze. "Worthless, anyway." A second passed before he realized what he had said. Though it was said unconsciously, and was as self-imposed as his staring, he stuttered to say: "- I mean..."

The Captain continued to examine Jaden's odd demeanor. He simply shrugged, and said, "Well laddie, take it from me - I'm a Captain o' this crew. Half me original crew is alive - aye, if even a quartar. An' each time one passes 'way, I feels like a part o' me dies. Cuz I'm workin' so 'ard an' steady t' put me own years o' experience an' wisdom - hah, if I even gots any left in me old melon. But aye laddie - it kills me each time one o' 'em drops by the wayside! Ah - jus' recently I lost Jagtooth. Ah, poor Jagtooth! Great beast 'ee was, born for the seas. 'Ad good eyes an' could spot a gull from a rock when 'ee would jus' be leagues away, an' could navigate jus' by glancin' once at the stars. Sees, me an' me crew were fightin' a pocket o' them Hellsteeth a wee bit north o' the Porttown over yonder, an' what do ye know... all I could do was keep me other men alive an' runnin'. Aye, I couldn't go back fer 'im! So laddie I know 'ows ye feel. But ye just gotta keep pushin' on 'head, sails full, rudder strong an' steady - if ye gives up now an' figger what ye would do if this-n-that would've come t' pass instead o' what did, ye won't get anywhere. Aye laddie, you an' I - we's got a crew t' look after, an' look after one another now."

Jaden's gaze had slipped. He simply nodded again and said: "Yeah, I guess. But only If I-"

"Oi! Matey, ye're doin' it again!" He bounded forward and brushed Jaden's shoulders off. After doing so, he looked the tod over, while gesturing. "Chin up, boots shiney an' laced, keep yer pants tucked in 'em! Le's go out thar an' rustle up th' crew an' tell 'em the news. We ain't waitin' another season fer this moment. Cuz, matey..." He stepped back, but hesitated before opening the door. He looked back. "Matey, ye know wot th' Abbot 'twould want ye to do. Keep pressin' on."

_Keep pressing on. Yeah. _

_...Well, I guess he's right. The Abbot _would_ want me to keep moving on. Ah... "There is a lesson to be learned in mistakes. If you should regret, you haven't sought out the knowledge that which is hidden from the plain eye.."_

Aye.

Jaden shuffled over to the door but still remained silent. For a moment his face betrayed resolution, but it twisted back into perplexion. He just shook his head, shrugged, and sighed. The sea otter Captain offered a pat on his shoulder. "Right matey? Now, les' go." The door opened with a creak and the earthy smells of the hallway wafted in. He changed hands on the doorknob while walking out so he could face Jaden. "Oi matey, this crew's I got 'tis fine. We's not only got sea-skippin' hoodlums, an' rope-lungin' fools, but - _great seas an' skippers!"_

Jaden quickly realized that the Captain wasn't quite looking at him. His eyes were averted. Jaden glanced over his shoulder, and looked again: nothing. A desk with papers, the cot, the shelves full of charts and a few books, two chest, and his own bag by the chair. He looked at the captain oddly after examining everything quickly. "Are you seeing thi-?"

Not only did the Captain exclaim again, but he pointed violently - "Oi! Matey!" He bound into the room, about knocking Jaden over. "Ye bag's alive!"

This time, Jaden approached the source of Gregshaw's excitement, and was about to touch it when something pressed on the inside. It was rather a rather small and round indentation, with five sharper dimples on the outermost edges - _a paw?_. Both Jaden and Gregshaw exchanged glances. Jaden reached down and began to untie the sack but Gregshaw grabbed his paws. "Watch it - it might be a baby rattler. Best be lettin' a professional snake killer 'andle this."

Jaden frowned. "Snakes don't have paws." The pressing happened again and Jaden pointed. "Look - see?"

"Oi." He let go. "But be careful..."

Jaden untied the strings the rest of the way and was about to open it when he saw a flash of metal out of the corner of his eye. He looked up. Gregshaw had a short knife drawn. Jaden shook his head, chuckling, looking down. "I don't think that's necessary... Ahhh_ahhhh!"_

Jaden jumped up and took a few paces back. Gregshaw peered into the sack and dropped the knife in shock. It pierced the old wooden floorboards, quivering.

"I's the freakin' spawn O' Broadblade the Great! Lord of Sala 'imself!" Gregshaw motioned. "Look at 'im! Wot... wot... how... wot...!"

Jaden ventured forward and looked inside. Inside was, indeed, the gold striped snout and forhead of the Lord, wrapped up neatly in swadling blankets. Jaden huffed and shook his head. "_That _is no wheel of cheese!"

Gregshaw's eyes rolled up. "Oi, laddie, our toils an' troubles were great already, but they have increased a hundred fold! If yon Badger Lord 'isself finds out about - aye, 'twould be terrible."


	7. Exeunt

Jaden's whiskers twitched. "My goodness..." _Why would he do this! Out of all things - he just died right before me, but _this...! He set his jaw and looked up at Gregshaw again. "He _won't_ find out. Mossflower is going under. Those hares - they won't be able to protect their Badger Lord and child for long, less themselves! Who knows what the King of the Hellsman would do if he found _this_!"

Gregshaw nodded in agreement. "Aye laddie, tha's mighty good thinkin' ye're doin'! Them _fools_ of rabbits an' whatnot in thar - y'know, that Badger Lord - they'll jus' be fightin' time. An when their time runs out - aye, starvation an' lack o' water an' vittles. Oi, it's a hare's nightmare t' go that way..." He shook his head and sighed forcefully. He reached down and pulled the badger babe out carefully. "This little un' would die out thar. ...Oi, 'e'll be a good sea otter... _badger_. Heh."

Jaden wasn't listening to Gregshaw, though. He was racketing his mind until a lightbulb went off. "The Abbot _did_ suggest more than what he gave me..."

Gregshaw cradled the badger babe. It was merely half a year old. He stroke the gold stripe with a claw and the badger babe sneezed, groping for the finger. "Aye, wot's that lad?"

"Well, the Abbot did follow the crowd of Abbey dwellers. I guess in their flurry of zeal for the hunt, they didn't notice that he did. Well I guess they couldn't have, because he was carrying what's on my back... would've been dragged behind by it. But _why _on earth did he even give them to me?"

The question perplexed the otter Captain further. He glanced at the objects on the tod's back, and frowned. "So wot's on yer back?"

A sudden, sharp voice not of Jaden's sounded - from the doorway. It was an ottermaid, standing in shock at the sight in Gregshaw's arms. She caught sight of the striped snout as the babe yawned.

"Oi thar laddie, wot the blazes are ye doin'? Wot's _that_ in your arms!"

Gregshaw looked up at Jaden, his eyes twitching. He turned around slowly, not to disturb the badger babe in his arms. "Well, er, ah, it's a long story-"

The ottermaid cut him off. "Well aye reckon' it be, since ye're holdin' none other than the son of the Badger Lord!"

Gregshaw stood there for a moment. He frowned. "Violet, naoh, we didn't go an' steal 'im or nuthin'-"

Violet approached Gregshaw and took the babe delicately from his arms. "Ye're holdin' it wrong! Aye, that's 'ow ye arn't supposed t' hold a babe." She began to gently rock him in her arms. Slow smile spread across her face. "-Wot are ye, a Captain ore somethin'?"

Gregshaw reached out, opened his mouth to say something, but declined not to and dropped his arms. He retried: "Oi, don't let 'im out of yore sight! No tellin' if-"

Violet cut him off again. "Ye think I'd do that?" She tickled the badger babe's nose, and he sneezed. The smile got larger. "Oi, I wouldn't be able t' 'old 'im if I tells anyone!"

Gregshaw glanced at Jaden with a look of irritation and concern. He turned back. "Violet, ye better not, cuz if'n's 'ee runs off an'-" But she was gone.

Jaden smiled coyly at Gregshaw. "Don't worry about it, I trust her."

"Ye do? Why?"

Jaden untied the straps of the cloth holding the sword and the tapestry on his back. He handed the sword, still clothed, to Gregshaw. "She looks like she could beat you in arm wrestlin'. Did you see the size of her muscles?"

Gregshaw felt the weight of the object passed to him. He looked sidelong at Jaden. "Aye - not only she c'n haul ropes an' anchors," He paused. "-She _did_ beat me! Har, but I lets her. - Oi! Wot's this lad? Feels like a sword from the weight o' it, or somethin'."

Jaden looked at Gregshaw knowingly, and flipped off the cloth to the tapestry. It unrolled as the cloth fell off. The staring picture of Martin holding his sword stood above the cowering form of some vermin with a trident. Gregshaw gawked at the tapestry. He then looked at the object in his hand, and flipped off a portion of the cloth to uncover the pommeless hilt. He then withdrew the rest of the sword and moved it up in the air.

"Great heavens! Ye're full o' surprises, aye!"

The sword was in surprisingly good shape. Apparently, it had been given a hasty clean up job, though - half of one side of the blade looked polished as the rest was dusted with rust and oxidation. It dripped with excess oil as well. Jaden looked at the tapestry, holding it to his side, and chuckled dryly to himself. "Sadly though, I have no use for this junk. 'Tis just bits of history that them Redwallers clung to. Worthless I'd say. Aww well, will be just taking up room on the ship."

Gregshaw turned the blade a few times, and lowered it slight to feel its weight. "Aye, 'tis a beauty of a sword. Though could use a little bit o' elbow grease an' a new one of those stone thingys." He tapped the empty bowl-shape of wire at the end. The wire was twisted and stuck out oddly. The wrap on the handle was mostly decay, but the metal of the hilt and the rivets were still intact. "No laddie, we's be keepin' it. I think ye Abbot had somethin' bigger in mind than jus' ye usin' it as anchor weight!"

Jaden frowned. "What do you mean?"

"That badger babe. Ye know them badgers an' their strength an' swords."

Jaden's frowned deepened, and his brows furrowed. "You mean, train him? Well I just have basic training with swords. And this is the first time I've touched one in decades. Last time I had a sword in my paw was when I dropped sword fighting for archery."

"Laddie, don't worry 'bouts it. I've th' best corsair otters in all these 'ere soon-to-be burnin' lands... Aye." He sighed. "Aye, 'twill be sad leavin' 'ome, but eh, it happens to the best of us."

"Yeah."

"Well lad," Gregshaw said as he wrapped the sword back up in the oil-soaked side of the cloth. "We've got somethin' bigger on our 'ands naow. Them badgers an' swords an' stuff c'n wait fer laters. We gots me crew t' get shape-ship an' prepare's fer the sailin'." He set the sword aside and held out his hand for the tapestry. "Ye give me that, an' I'll stow's it nice an' tidy. An' ye go an' tell the crew me word: that we's be on the river in two hours time, so they best be makin' themselves an' their holt ready fer sailin'!"

"_What?_" Jaden hesitated giving the tapestry over. "I hardly even know all of them. I don't remember even half of them. In fact, I think there's some new one's here that probably won't even listen to me! Did you see how they were looking at me? They're so supsicious, and-"

"Aye, Jaden," Gregshaw said as he took the tapestry from the unwilling fox. He grinned. "'Tis an' order. An' don' worry 'bout's them be listennin'. Aye, I've given them an earful 'bout ye while's ye be gone. They look at ye funny 'cuz they're curious!"

Jaden sighed sharply and shook his head as he walked out. "I don't think it will work..."

Gregshaw chuckled to himself. "Aye, it will. If they don't, they gots me to contend with."

The crew were milling about the pier. Some had jumped in the water and were swimming about. A few more were fishing, while others simply didn't even bother with line and hook - they took to it with their bare hands.

"Arg! I's got a big one!" One otter held up the trout, wriggling fiercly in his strong paw. "Beat that, ye fishin' line lovvah!"

Jaden emerged from the holt with sudden anticipation. Eyes quickly went on him - some he recognized, most he didn't. He cleared his throat and gestured. "Listen here, your Captain has something he wants me to tell you all."

Ears perked, and a few were forced up out of the water. "Oi! Watch it!"

"Shush! Matey 'as word o' th' Cappy."

Jaden cleared his throat again. "The Captain says... That we'll be sailing in two hours time." He paused. The eyes still looked, but no voices sounded, which made it all the better for Jaden. "He says to make ship ready and gather up all you will need for sailing."

A very rough looking otter poked his head up around the bottom of the pier. In the paw not holding himself to the pier was a hammer. "An' wot possessed the Captain this time? Aye, too much rum? S'weeks afore we be sailin' out!"

The basso voice of the Captain rumbled as he emerged behind from Jaden. Jaden stepped aside promptly. "Oi laddies, Mossflower 'as takin' a turn O' events. It ain't wot it used ta be, an' sadly it ain't goin' ta be fer long!

"The 'ellsman are comin' as reportin' by me friend 'ere Jaden. Yon black foxxy says that the King usually lies when he gives quick commands such 'as this." He looked at Jaden. "Why don't ye tell yer crew?"

Jaden looked up at Gregshaw, and back to the otters. He glanced back at the doorway leading inside the holt. Several heads had poked out of the doorway to listen to the commotion. "Well, the King usually gets ahead of himself when he gets ideas, and this time he's bent on the Abbey. From being with the King's armies - and don't get me wrong, I'm not in a hurry to go back. Eh.. heh. Well, the King put a two-week ultimatum on Mossflower, and by two weeks he means several days. It's no telling when he'll strike, but when he does... Let's just say it be best if we leave."

Mutterings, and murmers started. "Oi, wot's this?"

"Mossflower's my 'ome! - An' the sea, but i's me 'ome!"

"The King is comin'. Great, my pier will be wrecked _again_."

"Wot about the badger babe?"

Heads flung. Violet stood in the doorway holding the swadling babe. Gregshaw stepped aside and cleared his throat rather nervously. "Well mates, Jaden also 'appened on this lad. Found 'im in his pack, probably was flung in there on last notice by the Abbot 'imself - rest 'is soul. Oi, times be changin', aye..."

Silence hung over the stunned otters. Some looked expectantly at their Captain, while others just looked off. The Captain broke the silence rather loudly. "We be sailing fer Portstown today! Two 'ours! There we'll board the _real_ Potsly Mudclaw an' sail over the blue yonder t' safety. We'll be 'eadin' west past the Isles of Carnine an' Ambrosia, an' stop along th' way thar fer any victuals an' such we c'n find. But we won't stay long in either place - from my friend 'ere says, when the King 'an itch, 'ee itches it until it bleeds. This itch's Mossflower lads. There's no tellin' wot 'e'll do. The best we c'n do is leave with what we've got an' who we got."

An otter maid piped up. "But... what about Mossflower? Can't we be warnin' them of this?"

Jaden spoke up. "I tried telling Redwall but they chased me out. Tried to kill me, that lot. Last I saw they were running West. No telling how many towns and villages they'll come across and rile up. They would get to them before we ever could - and especially since the King and his armies could be in Mossflower right now!"

"Aye," The Captain agreed. "Now laddies, ye know wot to do. Get to work!"

The large holt only needed an hour and thirty minutes to prepare everything with the amount of hands available. Pots, pans utensils, and herbs and dried fish and fruits were stowed; along with the minor necessities of the otter's needs, and one of the Captain's chests, filled with maps and tools for navigating. The sword of Martin and the tapestry were locked in there, as the Captain showed Jaden out of view of the others.

The waters of the _Bohladaira, _or Sister Southsward as the otters called it, was smooth going. The large flat-bottomed boat was packed with beasts and belongings. Jaden brushed shoulders until he made it to the Captain. The Captain was looking over a map of the Western Seas with great scrutiny at bowside. . He rubbed the lens of the magnifying glass in his hand with a thumb, and looked again. The cutter moved along swiftly with aid one sail propped up. The mainsail was tied up; the other two jib sails were up and billowing.

Jaden sighed as he breathed in the fresh air. Different wildflowers and plants grew along the banks of the Sister Southsward, merging from the grassy marsh-soil by the Potsly trading post and holt. The Captain leaned back on the keg he was using as a seat and rubbed his neck.

"Arr, we best be sailin' fer the uncharted seas. No tellin' 'ow far th'King's ratcrews will sail. Them clammy fools 'ave proven themself afore's, an' we need every bit o' distance t'keep their claws off o' me holt."

Jaden nodded slowly. He looked the map over once and said, "How long will it take to get out there?"

"Oh, les' see. From where we are naow-" He glanced up and around. "-t' Porttown, s' be 'bout two t' three hours at the clippin' pace this river boat be goin'. Portstown t' the delta 'twill be nuthin', from the delta o' the Sister Southsward t' Carnin an' Ambrosia 'twill be six hours, an' from thar it'll be... forever an' a day, may'aps!"

Jaden nodded. "So it'll take us about two days, right? It's afternoon now. We'll be getting to Portstown well before dinnertime, and then we'll be sailing all night, correct?"

"Aye. No stoppin' cept fer me large boat an' victuals we could scavange at Carnine an' Ambrosia.

Jaden nodded again and sighed. He took a seat on an empty barrel and scratched his head. "I really do wonder what is wrong with Sala."

"I dunno, laddie. Could be anythin'. I've wondered that meself, an' jus' finally decided to stop. They be askin' fer it. Aye?"

"Yeah, I guess."


	8. Woodlander's Plight

The Porttown came into view on time, thanks to a sturdy inland wind and the smooth, quick flow of the stream. The town was rather spacious and namely so: it looked to be a promising bustle of activity. Docks of all shapes, colors, and sizes jutted out into the pristine waters of the Porttown bay, amassed by the port road and backed by the many streets and compacted buildings. It was a center of trade and economy. Across the bay, though, was desolate - only a few rotten piers stuck out from what the crew could see.

Upon closer inspection as they drew to their pier and boat, they noticed something peculiar. The Captain was the first to spot it.

"Oi! Wot's this? No beast be har!"

He was halfway through saying that when an ottermaid ran across the street parallel to the dock. She tripped in exhileration, and fell with a cry. She stiflied it quickly though, and picked herself up and hurried off to a building. The door shut, and the clank of a lock echoed off the cobblestone pavement.

The crew stirred about. One approached the Captain and said, "I don' like th' looks o' this cap'n. This ain't right."

All eyes were on the street. The odd silence, and barren condition of the streets and walkways were tensionous. Jaden looked to his right and left down the rows of piers off the elevated streets, and saw that nothing was going on. No beasts, no people, no inhabitants of Portstown.

A ball of unease grew in Jaden's stomach. The other crewmen were looking around, their unease showing through their faces. A maid peered her head out of the hatch and looked around.

"Wot's goin' on?" She asked rather loudly.

That caused heads to turn. The disturbance of the tensioned silence irritated the beasts.

And suddenly, a shout sounded from down the road:

"Eeeeeeuuullaliiiiiiiiiaaaaaa!"

That accented cry was unmistakable. The sounds of footbeats and accompanying shouts confirmed the already confirmable: they were the hares of Salamandonstron.

A beast portside cried aloud suddenly and flopped on the deck, squirming. The well-aimed weapon made its mark in the soft of the otter's stomach. A foot of the lance protruded from his backside. Gasps of horror were breathed among the crew; the Captain stood stock still for a second in shock before bellowing out orders.

"Everyone t' the boat! Everyone! Woman an' children go first an-"

"Eeeeeeuuullaliiiiiiiiiaaaaaa!"

The cry was closer. Jaden looked up down the street to see a mass of hares running headlong down the streets. The sounds of armor and weapons clattering echoed off the walls of the buildings. As quickly as the hares appeared, they were cut of quickly as beasts yelling with equal ferocious intensity bounded from the many alleyways and corners of the street. They were the members of Portstown by their clothes and weapons - dark browns and tans as opposed to the uniforms of the hairs. It quickly became a confused scene of chaos as metal clashed against metal and flesh. Hares, hedgehogs, otters, squirrels, and mice were pitted against the well trained legion of hares. The many pikes present dipped from view of

The holt of Potsly was confused as well. The Captain retorted again to yell sense into the crew, and they sprung into action. Obviously, the question raised was:

"Oi! Them be _woodlander hares of Sala _fightin' against their own-" An arrow embedded itself into the otter's throat. In a gurgling, miserable state, he stumbled backwards and over into the water. The Captain growled loudly, looking up to see a small group of hares running towards the boat. A few had shortbows drawn, and half had arrows ready. The others were clad with pikes and sabres. That was enough of an insight to encourage those still stunned to move into action.

"Two O'Clock bowside!" The Captain drew his own scimitar and tested the blade quickly with finger. "Maties, give 'em hell! -Oi, Raathsgard, Pewny, Scarface, Motly, Scumclaw get yer bows! An' the rest of ye make ship fer th' women an' children t'th boat!"

The crew did as told. Those the Captain named appeared and formed a line bowside, quickly bringing suppresive fire at the hares. Their skills proved worthy of their being named by the Captain - four hairs fell, and the remaining scrambled for cover behind wooden crates. A few others had swords and bounded up on the dock to go after the hares, while the others pulled the children, babes, and women out. Jaden instinctively reached back for his own bow and arrow, but was flushed with dismay as he groped for nothing. He had left his weapons at the Abbey, he recalled sickly. His eyes quickly searched for one, but he found none. One of the otters fell down in a cry of terror as an arrow found its mark in his chest. He fell like a tree on the wooden surface of the boat. He ceased moving with the fall, his head banging on the floor. _Scarface_, Jaden thought, glancing over the scarred complexion. He gathered the bow and an arrow from the otter, took aim at the hares behind the boxes - one poked his head out from behind and Jaden let fly. It struck the beast and the hair rolled to the side on the wooden dock-extension of the road. Dead.

Jaden ducked behind a barrel and looked down at Scarface. The quill was on the underside of the beast. Jaden hauled the otter over onto his stomach and slipped an arrow from the bunch of tightly packed arrows. As he set the notch against the string and stood up, pulling back on the arrow while searching for a target, he thought: _Prepared as if they were expecting this! _Hares quickly leaked out onto the streets from where Jaden supposed more members of Portstown had ambushed the flow of hares. Jaden aimed, fired, and cursed as he missed. He crouched down and reloaded. His archer otter companions continued to do the same, though two more fell.

The other crew were still leading out the women and children. Two took to a women and child, and the others scurried along those children remaining. The first of those that made it up onto the dock and onto the loading ramp were suddenly caught by surprise. Lances and arrows, seemingly raining down from the heavens, came upon the Potsly otter holt. Several arrows were tied with burnings bits of cloth soaked in oil. Jaden ducked instintively as he noticed the flaming bits come down out of the cloudy sky, and must have been one to miss it all - after the volley ended he looked up to see the line of women and children disintigrate. Several otters toppled into the water, while others fell into confusion, or fell about the dock with arrows sticking out of their bodies. Shouting sounded from over by the road, and a second volley fell down to extinguish those remaining. The marks were strangely accurate.

Jaden looked up to see why. He quickly discovered the reason - he spotted several bow-wielding members in _Hellsman_ uniform among the hares! Some more of the hares had broken through the lines of the determined Portstown people. Jaden cursed loudly as his eyes darted wildly about the boat. He spotted the Captain leaning up against the wall of the hut, and the Captain cried out to Jaden.

"Laddie! Save yoreself an' the badgerbabe!" He reached over to the corpse of Violet to try to wrest the babe from the arms of the ottermaid. Two arrows were embedded into her chest, while another in her throat. She lay alongside the crippled Gregshaw. A look of surprise mixed with determination befelled her fallen face. The badgerbabe was unharmed, as evident to its loud wailing. Jaden was soon to forget his instinct of bow and arrow and scurried over to Violet. He knelt down quickly and tried to take the badger from the deceased otter's arms, but they remained locked in place as if her fighting spirit still lived.

He finally pried her fingers off after much working. The Captain's eyes shifted to the road and he shouted at Jaden. "Get out with the babe! Save yoreself laddie..." His eyes flashed about the fallen otters. A few were still moving, though on the ground. The Captain surveyed the scene and cried out again. "Arg, me 'olt is dead! My family 'o otters..."

Jaden stood with the babe in his arms. He looked down at the Captain. "No, you're coming with me, Gregshaw!" He shifted the babe in his arms to one arm, and reached out and grabbed hold of the brown-haired Captain's arm. "Stop talking that way. Not on my watch you're going down like this!"

The Captain got up with much effort. Jaden discovered why he had been laying there - half of a javelin, broken, lay on the ground with the slight stain of pink on the end. He couldn't see where the wound was though. "Oi, I ain't goin' down until they _take_ me down! Aight laddie, this is where it gets hard." He grunted and hobbled into the cabin. "Follow me."

"Yeah, heh. Gets hard," Jaden said sarcastically. "That's a good one."

Jaden followed quickly. More shouting sounded from outside. Jaden peered out to see that the townspeople of Portstown had fallen back and were overtaking those who had leaked through the lines. From his quick glance, he could tell it was getting worse - because the Hellsman were present. They fought at least four times the ferocity of the hares. The hares were trained in formal combat; these Hellsmen were obviously not. They did have a peculiar fighting style, but it was dominated with power, and not the grace those hares with rapiers fought with. Jaden caught the flash of a badge on one of the Hellsman shoulders - _elite­. _These were trained to exterminate and annihilate quickly.

"Oi, laddie, look o're 'ere. 'elp me wit' this cargo!"

The Captain had situated himself by his chest of belongings, the one with the sword and tapestry. It was placed strategically near the entrance at the front of other barrels and boxes. Jaden nodded and grabbed one handle while being careful to cradle the baby. The baby, meanwhile, was whimpering. He edged on wailing. Jaden noticed this rather quickly and adjusted his hold. With the other paw he grasped the handle.

"Les' take it t' tha' little boat o'r there. Erg...!" He grimaced as he tested the weight of the chest. "On th' count o' three!"

A few arrows struck into the side of the boat. Stray, most likely. Jaden blurted out, "Three!" Both heaved and lifted the chest up. It was surprisingly light for what Jaden expected of it.

"I'll lead th' way. Follow me!" Gregshaw and Jaden weaved around two barrels to the entrance. Jaden looked up at the melee: the fighting was still happening, and growing thicker. Empty determination marked the faces of the townspeople as they came upon the Hellsman. All the other hares around them had fallen - Jaden huffed. Wouldn't be surprised if the Hellsman took them out. But what marked it in his memory more was the fact that the hares had been fighting alongside the Hellsman to begin with...

The Captain twisted his body to look behind him and about collapsed. He shouted in pain. "Arg! Curse those hares birth! With those blithering fools would've never..."

The two quickly made their way across the deck to the dock. From there they made their way around to the plank going to the larger sea-going vessel. The tall edge alongside the deck provided minor relief from being seen.

Or, at least what Jaden hoped. As the two scurried on deck Jaden took the lead. He glanced back every so often to watch his footpaws, the two making their way to the boat tied portside. It hung out over the water, deck pointing inward to the sea-going vessel, just in front of the dock. Jaden looked back and double glanced at the fighting - some knarly Hellsman caught an eye and glared out at the two making haste for the derelict. Around him more Hellsmen were appearing from the lines - must have fought their way through, carved a bloody channle to the docks. If they had gotten that far, then that would mean... the townspeople were loosing. For a while it seemed that they had the upper hand over the hares, but now, Jaden reasoned, their chances were becoming more narrow by the sword swing. Jaden growled under his breath. "Fools got an eye for me!"

_That stance - that pose, the way he holds that knife._

Lightbulbs went off. _Skreerpulse! _

"...Erg!"

Jaden made _much_ haste. He pushed aside thoughts of rememberance and made his way back. The Captain did all he could to keep up midst his grunting, occasional groan, and sharp yelling. The two made it to the dingy; the captain dropped his end at once and made for cutting the rigging holding the dingy on side of the vessel. Jaden peered over again and saw that Skreerpulse was missing from the crowd of fighting beasts. He shuddered - _ahh yes, old Skreer. The one of whom I shot an arrow through accidentally. Unfortunetely it was his foot..._

Jaden looked up at the mast and ropes spidering across the air above the deck of the _Potsly. _No Skreerpulse. A light sloshing sounded from overboard. Captain Gregshaw let loose the rigging and the boat swung out over the water on its supports. The wood creaked with its new use. The captain grabbed one end of the chest. Jaden did the same on his end, and both picked the chest up.

"Thar be a mast an' sail in thar -" Thunder sounded rather loudly, as a wave of light sprinkling jostled the light movement of the waters below. The darkening sky allowed errie shadows to dance around the otter. It reminded Jaden of some beast from Hellgates itself, crowning judgement on some poor beast to follow. His eyes were becoming glassy - and Jaden discovered where the lance was buried in him. His stomach - blood was pooling on his shirt, square center in it. "Ye'll jus' have t' lift th' mast an' plant it in th' deck, an' ye be set. Jus' tie the riggin' like I showed ye an trim th'sheets."

Jaden growled as the chest was set into the dingy. He let go and adjusted his hold on the babe. "Why didn't you tell me you're bleeding like a fool all over this earth!"

"Aye, laddie, I ain't goin' with ye. I'd rather die 'ere than -"

Jaden grabbed his arm, but the Captain drew back. "No lad! Ain't happenin'! I'd rather die with takin' a few o' them fools an' hares down with me. 'Sides, it's my home 'ere."

Jaden glared daggers at the Captain. "You arn't pulling an Abbot on me... I... I..." He shook his head. Emotion clouded his mind. "Ye're comin'! We could just patch you up and..."

"No laddie, 'alf a jav's in me." He grimaced and leaned up against the frame that arched over the derelict. He drew a short sword from his right side - not his fighting arm side - and began to cut on the lines. "Boat's settin' ship!" He barked rather distantly. "Ye best be gettin' in thar. Times a wastin', storms a blowing!"

Jaden glanced over at the sky above the sea. The sea was become rathe rough, with a squall line clearly visible over the darkening sky. It was as if a dark arm of judgement itself had stretched across the once blue heavens, and introduced a hellish realm of darkness. The sprinkling turned into a light downpour rather quickly. Lighting flashed and boomed voraciously. Gregshaw stopped cutting halfway through the one of two riggings. He gestured. "Ye best be gettin'! If ye're goin' t' ship an' with a badger babe, ye _best be gettin'! _Yore Abbot was right when 'ee says it-" Thunder clapped overhead again as the streets and dock were lighted by lightning. "Ye gots a future in yore 'ands!"

Jaden looked down at the wailing bundle in his arms. Large bundle, at that - a _badger _babe. The thought hadn't occoured to Jaden at all - _return to Mossflower after he has grown_. _But to where?_

"Where shall I go, Gregshaw? We both will die out there in _this_!" Jaden gestured. Lightning flashed as if on cue, and boomed loudly.

Gregshaw gestured. "West, laddie! Cuz let me tells ye somethin' I ne'r told anybeast fer fear o' their retaliation. There be a legend that says thar be an island out thar... me 'eard some says also these Mossflower beasts originate from those parts, lad. If ye gots this much o' brainwashed buzzards 'ere, then thar be at least that much over yonder! Birds 'av reported it exists, laddie. - An' at least-"

A looming form dropped from above and landed behind Gregshaw. Jaden only got out a shout before he could do anything. The beady, gleaming eyes of Skreerpulse reflected the escaping sunlight of the far North - coupled with a flash of metal. Gregshaw was hurtled forward and knocked Jaden and the babe back into the boat. The line snapped instantly, the derelict swinging only slightly before the weight of the boat and burden snapped the old frayed second line, dropping Jaden, his burden, and the chest down into the waters below with a great _splash!_

Jaden cradled the babe. His upper back struck the mast, sending inkvines of pain throughout his body. He glanced up through teary eyes to see Gregshaw hanging over the edge of the boat. Skeerpulse raised the blade above his head and struck down with a resulting, sickening _thunk! _The Captain's eyes bulged, but he did not cry out in pain. His arms went limp and his head dangled.

"Oi! I can't move me legs -" His eyes lolled over to Jaden as Skreerpules readied a second high swing. This time, it would be a jab. "Save yoreself laddie! Get outta-"

His voice quickly silenced as Skreerpulse finished the job. Jaden was thrusted with adreneline and the current prospects of the moment, and scrambled up to his footpaws - he set the babe down underneath a plank set across the deck for seating, and made his best to upright the mast around the tangle of lines. It had twisted around from the fall. He looked up in horror to see the broad-shouldered stoat step over the deck, pushing Gregshaw into the water. Gregshaw's hand thunked the side of the derelect as he fell straight down and sunk, lifeless and limply. But Skreerpulses' efforst were short lived - a cry was raised, and an arrow sunk itself through the stoat's neck. He too fell to a strangulated mess and into the water. He did not surface.


	9. Westward

Water splashed on deck and over Jaden. The violent jostle of water in between the two boats caused the derelict to shift out towards the bay. He looked back to see the ensuing conclave of violence - the bearer of the arrow ran out to the deck but was caught short by a javelin. He somersaulted into the water. The beasts behind him were in the heat of battle, more Hellsman appearing and outnumbering the townspeople and hares. Curtains of rain poured out as if the heavens opened their floodgates, as if tears for the fallen. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed in time with the chaos.

Jaden stumbled around with the mast until he untwisted the problem - the sail became undone, and the bottom ropes were lashed around the front ties for the mast. But a problem became evidently clear - the main sail billowed out prematurely as he tried to set the heavy thing in its centerplate. He grumbled as he decided to fight against the wind - and surprisingly succeeded. Lucky for him the rigging wasn't tightened, so the main sail wasn't trimmed.

He then set to the jigsail. He unraveled the twine holding the jig down, and pulled on the cord running from tack of the jib sheet. He tied it around its appropriate anchor on the boat's deck. The jib fluttered lifelessly in the wind. He set to the mainsail and trimmed it; he tightened up the boom to get a feel for the wind, and he had to pull hard - gusts pulled sharply at the now tightened mainsail. The boat, as result, swayed out into the water aimlessly - but at the least away from dock.

He set the boom as to where he remembered Gregshaw showed him - that certain angle, and he tended the rudder. He glanced down at the babe - it was crying midst its swadling clothes, quickly becoming soaked in water. The rain spit sharply in Jaden's face, the stench of fish and wood being blown away in the wind. The sloop design of sails was quickly brough to use - he adjusted the the rudder to point the boat leeward, and the boat caught the wind as if it was a hand and was propelled out into the bay. Judging from the length of the keel when he caught sight of it over by the boat, he took notice to how close he was to the southerly land. He was far enough away, though. Even if he did close, he would most likely not run into shallows for a time - Jaden recalled how Gregshaw had always loved the waters by Portstown. They were deep, as he said, perfect for stowing a sea-vessel.

He reached down and took the babe up. The clothes were becoming soaked. He shoved the babe under the fold of his cloak and said, as if the babe could understand him through the howling wind and sheeting rain, in the matter of the late Gregshaw - "Ye best be gettin'..."

Jaden fought hard with the rudder. Since the derelict was just enough for one man to handle, it was all he could do with one strong arm to keep the rudder in the appropriate angle to the wind, and with the other shield the babe from the wind. It stopped wailing. He patted the bulge underneath his clothing and sighed, glancing back at the bay. The edges of the dock dwindled away with the street as it molded into the inhospitable, rocky outcropping that jutted out shortly. Sooner than he knew it, he was out at sea.

Jaden took a last glance at Mossflower. Slight panges of disbelief shuttered through his spine - he was leaving his home out for the unknown, with a _badger _babe in his possesion. With starboard facing north, he looked - and noticed very faint orange glow through the slicing rain.

_Fire!_ The King had been advancing much sooner than he had expected, and had done so in his regularity - burn that which grows out of the ground, and kill off what feeds from it. How typical. He faced the rain again as it whipped in his face - more glowing revealed itself slowly. _Must be perspective of the beach..._

He sighed aloud and opened his cloak to peer down. Wind whipped around into his cloak, jostling the silky down of the dibbun. The dibbun blinked and wined softly as it swirled about. He placed the hand through his cloak and felt for the babe - stroked his forehead with a finger. He yelled into the wind.

"It's going to be all right! ...All right."

_Yes. All right. Any navigation tools must be in that chest, along with the sword and the Tapestry._

He then grunted. _Stupid thing. It's locked. I guess I'll just navigate by the sky..._

He recalled quickly how he learned to adapt to the wild in his wanderings. He had taken to getting to know the different faces of the skies in its different seasons, partly in combination with his horde training and what Gregshaw offered in a brief space of time in his infrequent visits with the otters. He sighed and continued to fight with the rudder as it sped out into the water. The seas were become rough, as water lapped over the sides of the boat. Jaden quickly felt humbled, and miniscule in the great hands of the sea - the boat rocking in rhythm with the waves, he having to fight between direction of the waves, the wind, and how he had set the sails.

Lightnight flashed overhead. A stray arm of it struck the waternearby, boomed an ear-wrenching sound across the face of the waters, despite the swirling masses of wind and water. The babe started to cry and he tightened up his cloak around the form on his lap.

_Direction..._ he thought. _Westward. Westward, to the unknown... away from my home... Our home._

He caught the brief glimmer of light far off. But it was marred and a shattering visage of bent and tattered hope - far off and glistening through the rains. He quickly equated the distant and bleak light to fact: alone, and possibly lost at sea. _Keep an eye on those waves and how the wind blows in the sails!_ But the wind seemed to be come from many directions at once - He cursed out loud as his plight was made moot. Quickly realizing it may not be a good idea to keep the sails up in storm, he slipped off his cloak - carefully with the babe - and secured the bundle underneath the plank he anchored his feet against. The rudder he tied in place with rope, and set to unlashing the ropes. The sails he stowed on the boom and jib boom, and

In the face of this though, he took heart. Better taking chances out here than suffering under the thumb of the King. No doubt the King would have him killed.

Jaden set back down and resettled the badger babe in his lap under his cloak. He untied the rudder and took to steering the craft. "Westward! Westward we will go, you and I my little badger friend."


End file.
